How to Save the Galaxy, Vol 1
by Gwendolyn Rogan
Summary: A parody of farce and folly that follows super-villain-turned-delusional-smuggler Thane Sunrider as he stumbles onto his destiny one afternoon after a late night of ladykilling and droid corrupting. First few chapters can be hard on the eyes. KotOR I
1. Chapter 1: Attack on the Bed Liner

_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, as if that isn't at all obvious. Also, I hereby claim no responsibility if you fall out of your seat in pain rather than in laughter over the humor presented here. Read this fic at your own risk. _

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Chapter One: Attack on the Bed Liner

The world shook.

"Jus' five more minutes, Mum," a large man mumbled as he covered his head with a depressingly threadbare pillow. His feet hung over the end of the bed and his wide shoulders barely fit on the frame. The others accused him of being a giant; he accused them of giving him a bed that was too small on purpose. Still, a bed was a bed and after hours of tinkering with Republic equipment and teaching the droids how to swear, it was a place to rest his weary head.

But seeing as the ship this man found himself on was under attack, there's little time to describe his current sleeping situation.

As the _Bed Liner _shook again, this giant of a man was thrown to the floor, cursing his mummy the entire way down. It wasn't until he managed to open his eyes and shake his mind from its juma juice murk that he realized he wasn't at home. Perhaps that was a good thing as a grown man should not be talking to his mother with such language.

Climbing to his feet, he lifted a brow at the other man in his cabin.

"What're you doin' here," he accused.

"I slept here, too."

This giant of a man held his head in confusion. "Just how much did I drink last night anyway?"

"Eh…?" The little man threw the giant an odd look before pointing at a bed on the other side of the room. With a voice fit for a field mouse, he continued, "I slept there just in case you're thinking of something else."

"Why the past tense?"

"Because I don't think we'll be doing much more sleeping in here. The name's Ulcer, Tictac Ulcer. We worked opposite shifts."

The giant shook his head, ready to clock the man a good one. However, rational thought quickly took over and he sighed. "The name fits."

"Fits what?"

"How much you annoy me and how uncreative the author is."

"Author?"

"Nevermind."

As we are now into the story, it might be helpful to mention that the giant did indeed have a name and that it was Thane Sunrider, Alcohol Consumer of Lore and the Conquerer of Virginity. However, since that title is a rather long one, Thane tends to go with his given name, unless otherwise asked, of course.

The two men looked at each other for a moment before they turned their gazes elsewhere, clearing their throats in that way men do when they're caught staring at another man.

"So, what do we do now?" Thane asked, stroking his perfectly tended roguish growth of stubble.

"We're under attack," Ulcer said, indicating a rather large ship through the nearest viewport.

"So we are." Thane started to turn towards the door. "I'll be seeing you—"

"We need to save the Jedi." Tictac said, grabbing Thane's wrist as the other man prepared to take off.

"And you expect me to help out with this little rescue mission? Jedi are more than capable of taking care of themselves. I'm sure they don't need or want our help."

A stand off ensued that ended with both men once again clearing their throats. Thane did not like this little man in the least and seeing as he hated narration, he decided to speak his mind.

"Look, I'm just a humble smuggler pulling a fast one on the Republic. They wanted information that I had and I wanted the booze and credits they had, not to mention the rights to a certain inconsequential bounty on my head. I plan on booking it out of here as soon as we reach Coruscant." He paused and glanced around as if looking for something. "Is this a bad holovid or did I just reveal my master plan?"

"You just revealed your master plan. Now get dressed and grab a weapon."

"Pardon?"

"If you don't I'll rat you out to the Republic." Tictac stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking as menacing as a mouse.

"That's adult of you."

"You're welcome, now get moving."

Tictac crossed the room and threatened to open the door before Thane was properly dressed. Rolling his eyes and thinking of the many nasty ways he could crush this little mouse of a man, Thane picked up the biggest sword he could find as if compensating for something and swung it gallantly through the air.

"I have absolutely no idea how to use this thing yet I feel strangely compelled to pick it over a blaster," he said without knowing why. Thane shook his head, holding the sword at the ready even though Tictac hadn't opened the door yet.

"Need a quick lesson?"

"Depends on what you have to teach me."

Tictac shrugged. "See the sharp end?"

"Yeah?"

"Stick that into the other guy."

"Thanks for the tip," Thane said, rolling his eyes, again, those thoughts of killing this Tictac coming back to mind. "Let's get this over with since it seems as if we have no choice but to face armored soldiers in nothing but clothing."

"Ready?"

"Did you miss what I just said? Besides, this stance is becoming rather painful." As if the illustrate his point, Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, shrugged his shoulders to loosen the very large muscles; muscles no ordinary smuggler should have. Though he had no recollection as to how he became so well muscled, Thane wasn't one to complain. The _Jedi Do It Better _tattoo on his forearm, however, did confuse him quite a bit.

"You're sure you're ready?" Tictac asked.

"Just open the damn door!" Thane said, his thoughts turning from the tattoo for a moment before going back to it. Him? A Jedi? What a laugh. He must have gotten it to impress the ladies.

Tictac gave him one last look before hitting the button. Relieved to finally be moving, Thane was met with the sight of…a very empty hallway. Running—not walking—forward, he skidded around a corner and ran smack dab into a large group of Sith soldiers. With a mind to turn around and hightail it back to his suddenly comfortably small bed, Thane simply blinked. The Sith did too, holding up their blasters and not shooting.

When he did make the move to attack, Thane took a single step before pausing in midair for a very brief moment.

"You know, I have been in a fight before," he yelled at nobody in particular, frightening the Sith and Tictac alike. Hell, he frightened himself with the sudden outburst to nobody. However, it seemed to give him an advantage. Slashing wildly as he tried to figure out the sword, Thane was mildly amused to see a helmeted head go flying through the air, followed by a comic jet of blood that would result in a mature rating.

Hacking his way through the boring narration (not to mention the horde of Sith soldiers), Thane came to a door that was twitching and sputtering like an architecture student on a caffeine high.

"That one's broken."

"Thank you for the brilliant observation, professor."

"You're welcome." Tictac smiled like an idiot before pointing down the opposite hallway. "We have to go that way."

"Okay."

"I'm serious!" Tictac exclaimed.

Thane blinked, not following the little man. "What?"

"Nothing."

"R_iii_ght." Thane drawled. "Let's get a move on, then."

Tictac frowned before heading off at a run. With a great, the-galaxy-hates-me sigh, Thane followed Tictac, his breath coming at a perfectly normal rate despite all of their running and battling. He really was a magnificent specimen despite the worrisome tattoo, if he did say so himself.

Growling at the fact that _somebody_ wasn't doing a very good job of flattering him, Thane nearly squished Tictac between himself and a closed door. Issuing a series of imaginative curses involving a rancor and Tictac's mother from his perfect lips, Thane brushed aside a lock of magnificent cocoa coloured hair before he bothered asking Tictac what was wrong, happy that things were starting to go his way.

Tictac pointed down the hall at a partially opened door. Through the opening, the upper half of a Jedi corpse could be seen. "There's a Sith Lord over there who killed a Jedi."

"I can see that. And this concerns us, how?"

"I need to go stop him to give you time to find the escape pods."

"Sounds like a plan."

"You aren't going to stop me? Not even a little? Not even any remorse or advice?"

"Eh, good luck?" Thane said, glancing at his watch. He didn't have time for this.

"That was heartfelt."

"Hey, you're the sacrificial lamb of a minor character and I have a galaxy to save. Can't bother myself with people trying to be heroic for me. If I did, I'd have to find a couple of more hours to tack onto the end of a standard day." Tictac gave Thane a doubtful look, the Sith Lord behind them being very patient as the two men finished up their conversation.

"What can I say?" Thane said, puffing up his chest. "I'm a popular guy."

"Sure."

"Don't you have a Sith Lord to tend to?"

"Oh…yeah…"

"Well, get to it then. Don't let me hold you back." Just as Tictac turned to look at the Sith, Thane gave him a little push in that direction, scowling at the injustice of it all. After all, he wasn't a horrible person, just one who believed in self-preservation.

"I'll see you later, Tictac."

Before the other man could even respond, Thane dashed off, his long legs carrying him through the ship that turned out to be a very poorly designed maze rather than anything else. How was he supposed to find his way around here?

Just as this question surfaced in his mind, the device he had earlier slipped onto his wrist started to beep. Halting midstride and standing still, his breath coming normally, Thane tilted his head to one side as he hit a button. The image of a put upon man—one Garth Omen—appeared on the small screen. He seemed to be typing in the thin air.

"Yee-up?" Thane drawled.

"I've been tracking your movements through the Life Support Systems—"

"That's a little creepy."

"—and it pains me to inform you that we, we are the only living beings on board."

"Does your story have a point?"

"The _Bed Liner_, the lovely, lonely _Bed Liner_, is about to explode into a million forlorn pieces; pieces just like those of my broken heart."

Honestly, did everyone have to be an idiot or insane? First that kook of cabinmate and now this wannabe country-western star Republic soldier. When would it end? Honestly. Thane's question wasn't a rhetorical one.

"I suspect you want me to join you at the escape pods?"

"That would be preferable, but even then…"

"Then I'll see you there," Thane said as he ended the transmission. He wasn't in the mood to hear this man's life story. Besides, he was sure he would hear it on the way to the planet, God forbid. Maybe there would be a stash of juma juice in the escape pod.

Frowning, Thane continued his running and battling as he continued to get lost in the ship. Turning around several times and wondering where the hell he was going, he seemed to happen upon the escape pods on accident. Glancing at this Garth Omen (a man of similar height but with a sad look in his eye and a twang to his voice) Thane dove into the escape pod, briefly considering leaving Garth to his own devices. However, remembering that he wasn't a horrible man, he impatiently waited for Garth to join him in the very small vessel. This was going to be a very long ride indeed.


	2. Chapter 2: Crash Landing on Ferris

Chapter Two: Crash Landing on Ferris

Thane really hated this habit of waking up and finding a man in his room rather than a beautiful woman. Granted, it had only happened twice now, but that was two times too many. At least this Garth looked like he could do something in a fight which was more than Thane could say for Tictac, much more.

Groaning as he sat up, Thane looked first at Garth, then at the large window, and then at Garth again.

"Where're we?" He slurred. His tongue felt like it was too big for his mouth and his head was fit to explode. Wonderful.

"Oh, you're awake," Garth said in his sad tone. "I was almost ready to give up hope."

"You sound upset that I lived."

"Oh no, it's not that," Garth said to the wall. From Thane's vantage point, the other man looked ready to cry. He frowned and shook his head. Idiots, everywhere he went, idiots.

"You still didn't answer my question." Thane had attempted to stand but quickly realized that it was a very bad idea. Flopping back down on the small bed (was the entire galaxy against him? Geez…) Thane closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This hangover had better pass quickly.

"We're on Ferris, a planet of slackers, con artists, and carnival people."

Thane shuddered. "I hate clowns. They give me the willies."

Garth turned to look at Thane (which the other man didn't see as he was concentrating very hard on not vomiting) and frowned even deeper, if possible.

"Don't worry, they live in the Undercity. We probably won't run into them."

When the latest wave of nausea passed, Thane risked a glance at the other man.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that. I have a feeling that we'll be facing the clowns very soon."

"What makes you say that?"

"Call it a hunch." Thane laid back down and pulled a blanket over his head, blocking out the light.

When Thane deemed it safe to continue speaking, he did so through the blanket, his words coming out muffled. "So, what happened? Last thing I remember is finding a stash of juice on the escape pod."

Garth chuckled which nearly made Thane fall off the bed in his surprise. Instead, he gagged and clapped a hand over her mouth. That was too close for comfort.

"While you were having the time of your life, I was busy trying to steer the pod. We nearly exploded coming into the atmosphere, an explosion that would have lit up the night sky in a spectacular display of fire."

"Not to mention human body parts," Thane croaked. "Get on with it without the dramatics."

Garth grunted. "After you had consumed enough alcohol to completely cover the floor of the pod with bottles, you pushed me out of the way and took hold of the controls yourself. We tumbled through the sky, barely missing the towers and spires of the city," Garth sounded ready to break out into song. "You were laughing, absolutely enjoying yourself as we faced death again, and again, and again. Just when I didn't think my poor broken heart could take it anymore, you decided to land. After bouncing several times—I think you might have squished several people—we finally skidded to a halt. Having both passed out from the alcohol and from hitting your head on the console, I dragged you out of the wreckage and into this apartment. I doubted that you would ever wake up and figured that I would be stranded here among the Sith for the rest of my wretched life."

Thane blinked under the blanket. That had been quite a story. It could have made a great song of tragedy and loss set to the sound of a lonely guitar, Garth's voice… Thane shook his head. What the hell was he thinking about that for? Scrubbing at his face, he threw the blanket to the floor and sat up, no longer nauseous. His ability to get over a hangover often surprised even himself.

Leaning forward on his knees, Thane stumbled across the room and leaned against the window, looking over the city.

"So what do we do now? Wait around until the Republic bothers to come looking for us? Join the Sith? Kill them all?"

"We get to go find the Jedi. Her escape pod crashed somewhere in the city." Garth waved his hand in an all encompassing gesture and Thane frowned.

"Don't tell me…"

"Brazilla?"

"A monster of a Jedi who can drink you under the table and look good while doing it. Aren't we a couple of lucky bastards."

Garth was silent for a moment and it wasn't until Thane turned to look at him that he said something.

"I seem to sense a tragic theme here."

"You mean that everything seems about as alcohol centered as a college student?"

"Exactly." Even though it was a single word, Garth managed to put all of the troubles of the galaxy into it. "What a horrible way to live life."

"Eh," Thane said in disagreement. "It's not so bad."

The two looked at each other before their eyes darted away to opposite sides of the apartment. Staring at these men he woke up to was another habit Thane had to break, and quick like. Maybe looking for this Jedi wouldn't be so bad. She was female, after all.

With that as a booster, Thane looked around for his sword. "We should get going before she gets into trouble."

"I thought you wanted to leave her to her fate?" Garth rose one brow as he followed Thane around the room with his eyes.

"A hot, drinking _female _Jedi is better than a tragic _male_ Republic soldier any day."

"I sense a hidden insult."

"Then you're smarter than I originally took you for."

"Hey…" Garth frowned as he stood up. Though he was just about as tall as Thane, he was nowhere near as well muscled, a fact Garth noticed right away. His sigh was tragic as he checked the blaster at his hip. "That wasn't very nice."

"Okay, Garth, you're forcing me to retract my previous statements."

Garth looked slightly hopeful, though he wasn't sure why this man's opinion meant so much to him. "How so?"

"You're an absolute genius."

Garth frowned. "You really are a horrible person, no matter what you might think or claim."

"Oh, so you're turning this into a battle of the wits?" Thane stood at his full height and furrowed his brow, becoming an absolutely terrifying thing to look at. Garth seemed to stare for a moment, something about the posture slightly familiar.

"No," Garth said simply without emphasis.

Thane went on. "Remember, I'm a smuggler and to be a smuggler you have to have a wit like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm sure you do," Garth said as Thane went on. He, on the other hand, started to gather up an impossible amount of equipment. It all went into a pack on his utility belt that looked as if it would hold maybe ten stimshots rather than several weapons, medpacs, those stimshots, some additional clothing and armor, and what have you. Thane had already clipped a similar bundle onto his own belt before beginning his rant; neither man thought anything of it as if a bottomless, well organized pack was nothing out of the ordinary.

Garth looked up as Thane fell silent. "Are you done now?"

"Yeah." Thane said as he held up his sword, ready for action.

"Then let's go find this Jedi."

Thane looked at Garth, surprised that his last few statements hadn't held the weight of the galaxy behind them. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad after all. Shaking the thought from his head, he hit the door release and left the apartment. After running around in a large circle and breaking into all of the other apartments (and placing what valuables he found into his bottomless pack), Thane found the exit. He ignored the alien trying to sell him junk and ran through the door.

What seemed like hours later (even though he did nothing but exit the apartment complex) Thane found himself on the street. There were Sith everywhere to be seen as well as the native human population who called themselves Buellers. While most simply lived out their lives, the planet of Ferris had the reputation for breeding con artists and slackers. Those folk, however, were mostly confined to the Lower City where rival gangs ruled the streets. While he knew he could take on both gangs single-handedly, Thane didn't feel like dealing with them if he could avoid it. However, that little voice of reason in the back of his head (the one he usually blatantly ignored) told him that he would be running around this planet like a headless chicken from the sewers below the Undercity to hangers way up in the sky.

"Wonderful," he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," Thane growled. Taking in a breath to calm himself down, he glanced at his companion. "So, how do you suggest we go about this?"

"We should probably be careful when talking to people since we don't want to get Brazilla in anymore trouble than she may already be in. We should probably avoid using the words Jedi, escape pod, Republic…" Garth went on before Thane cut him off by turning to a passing woman.

"Hey, have you seen a Jedi woman around? Tall, tan, hot? She came crashing out of the sky in an escape pod after the _Bed Liner_ was attacked."

"That was subtle," Garth said behind Thane. The statement earned him a good punch in the shoulder.

The woman Thane had turned to looked as if she hadn't heard a word he had said. Instead, she was eyeing the tattoo on his forearm and the sword clipped to his belt. Had Thane not been in a foul mood, he would have acted on this attention. However, seeing as he was completely sober and annoyed with his companion, he wasn't in the mood for games, possibly sexual or not. Without another word, he spun on his heel and decided against talking to any other woman. Garth jogged after him and grabbed Thane's shoulder. Taking offense, Thane turned around and held up his fist, ready to throw a punch before he recognized Garth.

"Don't do that unless you're cruisin' for a bruisin'." Dropping his fist, Thane blinked and frowned deeply. "Did I just say what I thought I said?"

Garth nodded.

"Damn." Turning around, Thane shook his fist at the sky. A furrow creased Garth's brow.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Thane said as he aimed a rather dirty look upwards before turning back to Garth. "Now, what were you saying before I stopped that woman?"

"That we should be careful."

"Oh yeah, right, right," Thane said absently as he noticed a group of drunk men. "Maybe they can help."

"How in heaven's name could they help us out of our desperate situation? It's already doubtful that we'll find our lost Jedi and talking to a group of drunkards will hardly help us." Ah, there was the Garth Omen Thane knew and despised.

"If anything they'll know where a bar is."

"Again, how will that help us?"

Thane held out his wrist and pointed to a meter. The dial was hovering over a patch of red, indicating that Thane's blood-alcohol level was dangerously low. "If you expect me to be able to function well, I'll need to get to a bar right soon."

Garth rocked back on his heels and eyed Thane up and down.

"You really are a work of art."

"Well, it was either alcohol or coffee and since there are more bars around the galaxy than there are Starbucks, it was the more logical choice."

Garth rose his brow in question. "You're sure about that?"

"Not anymore, no." Thane said as he scratched at his stubble. "At least alcohol won't give me a heart attack or the jitters."

"But it could poison you."

"Six of one," Thane said over his shoulder as he approached the group of drunks.

"Heeeyyou," one of the man slurred, attempting to point at Thane. "Irknow-you. Yer'face wass plasst…turd all over the nnnnewws."

Thane suddenly started to rethink talking to these men. They were obviously well past the point of being able to help him. However, as his BAR (blood-alcohol reminder) was starting to vibrate and ring, he figured they could at least point him in the direction of the bar they had come from. If he got a word in, that was. The man just continued on talking.

"Yer tha-that warrr heeereeooo turrnnndd baa-guyyy. Wassz hisz name… 'Eee'arss a bigg-gg J-Jeeedii." As his words became more and more incomprehensible, Garth and Thane started to exchange glances. What the hell was this man talking about?

"Reelle-Reelle—" And the man passed out. His companions chuckled and looked at Thane, shrugging.

"Don' min' 'im," one of the other men said. He was just as hard to understand as the first man had been. " 'E tells taaall taleess when 'e drinksss." He blinked. "Iss thar som'thin' I can 'elp you wif?"

"Nearest bar," Thane said, quite stunned. He certainly did not like drunk men accusing him of being a Jedi, let alone Relevant, the recently-killed, big bad guy of the current war. However, he had to admit that this Relevant must have been a handsome devil if people were mistaking him, Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, for the Dark Lord, but he still didn't like it in the least.

"Oooohh," the drunkard said, lifting his arm and pointing north. "Thhadaway. Big blinkin' llighs'. You can' misssit."

"Cheers," Thane said as he turned around and walked very quickly away from the group of men. Garth followed and eventually asked him what that was about.

"How the hell should I know? If you're asking me if I'm Darth Relevant, I'm not. I don't even know what this guy looks like, only that he was supposedly killed a couple of weeks ago. Before that I was too drunk to watch the news." Thane shrugged. "The Republic really helped me out of the funk I found myself in. Hell, I don't much of anything about the past several years."

This fact did not seem to alarm Thane as much as it did Garth who, despite his appearance and personality, was something of a smart guy. He was no genius, but there were brains in his head. However, Garth could not get his mind around the thought that his companion could be anything other than a drunk, vulgar smuggler recruited by the Republic to do God knows what. Besides, the truth couldn't possibly be revealed so early in the story, so Garth left it at that. As did Thane, apparently, who was making a beeline straight for the bar, the lights calling him like an insect to a flame. He didn't realize that Garth had paused some meters back and that the Republic soldier-country-western star wannabe was now running to catch up to him.

As soon as Thane stepped into the bar (after another seemingly endless wait in limbo the moment he stepped through the doors) he stopped and took in a deep breath. There was nothing like the sour smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol to get the blood pumping. Cracking his knuckles, Thane headed straight for the bartender in order to refuel.


	3. Chapter 3: Going Down

Chapter Three: Going Down

"Ugh, couldn't you have chosen something pleasant smelling?" Garth asked as Thane wrapped an arm around his shoulders, breathing in his face. The smuggler grinned stupidly and leaned most of his weight on the other man. Garth frowned and leaned as far away as possible, which was hard considering the current situation.

"Oh, I dunno," Thane said with a grand gesture. "Sometimes you need somethin' a little stronger." Pulling his wrist very close to his face, his grin widened. "There, my blood-alcohol level is in a good place. I should be fine for the next several hours."

"Only several?"

"As in five or so." Thane shrugged as he let go of his companion. "Some men need food and water; others, like me, need alcohol. It's just the way I was born. Sue me."

They were now walking around the streets of Ferris looking for some clue as to where their lost Jedi had gotten herself off to. And despite the amount of alcohol Thane had consumed, Garth was quite impressed with the man. He wasn't stumbling around or yelling at the other pedestrians. Instead, he was quite pleasant and seemed fairly normal. Maybe what he had said about the alcohol was true. In any case, he was far more pleasant to be around now than he had been a couple of hours ago (as in: before they went into the bar). They had even managed to get some information about the other escape pod. Apparently it had crashed down in the Undercity. Thane had cursed quite magnificently when he found out.

"Clowns," he muttered, even now. "I can't stand bleedin' clowns."

"What about the rats? They're pretty dangerous, too, you know," Garth said, trying to get the other man's mind off the carnival folk.

"Meh," Thane grunted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Mutant rats are nothing to squeal about. Besides, they're fairly common—every big city has them."

"Maybe, but not this type," Garth shrugged. "If they attack you, you become one."

"Again, what's new?"

"These rats used to be clowns."

Thane shuddered at the very prospect. "Do we really have to find this Jedi? I mean, I'm sure she's looking for whatever bumbling idiots happened to find their way off the _Bed Liner_ as we speak, meaning us. Shouldn't we just wait in the apartment. You know, stay put? …And _away_ from the mutant clown-rats?"

"Are you going to scream like a little girl when we go to the Undercity?" Garth had a hint of laughter in his voice and a sparkle in his eye. The tone made Thane nervous; Garth was supposed to be dramatic and tragic, not laughing. However, he couldn't bother himself with a slightly tweaked character, he had his dignity to worry about.

"No, no I'm not. I never scream. Never have, never will. Instead I'll probably cower." Thane gave Garth a lopsided grin that wasn't quite humorous. "Phobias are a serious thing, Omen, not something to joke about. They're also usually irrational."

"And I suspect your case is different? Was your father killed by a clown while you were sitting in his lap, watching a show under the Big Top?" That about-to-break-out-into-song tone returned to Garth's voice. "How tragic."

Thane lifted a brow at Garth.

"No," he said. "Mine is just as irrational as the next."

"Oh," Garth seemed disappointed. "Too bad."

Thane grunted and stopped in front of a Sith soldier. Garth looked around, just now realizing that they had entered a building and were now standing in front of a turbolift.

"Permission slips?" The soldier asked.

Thane titled his head to one side. "Eh?"

"Permission slips. No one goes down without a signed permission slip."

"Do you have any to spare?" Thane asked, looking around the soldier and at the doors.

The man sighed dramatically and dug into a pouch at his waist. "There are always people who lose theirs. It's like clockwork, I tell ya'."

"Yeah, you tell us," Thane said as he glanced at his slip. "We'll be seeing you."

He mock soluted the soldier before running off. Coming to a halt just around the corner and outside the building, he grabbed Garth as the other man went running by.

"Oi, you got a pen?" Thane asked, examining the slip.

"Yeah, why?"

"Forgery. It's a skill."

"It's also illegal."

Thane looked up at Garth as if he had said the stupidest thing ever to reach his ears, which he had. Pointing at himself, Thane looked ready to smack Garth over the side of the head, which he did.

"Smuggler, dumbass."

"Oh. Right." Garth said as he rubbed at the side of his head. Glancing at Thane's outstretched hand for a moment, he reached into his jacket and reluctantly pulled forth a pen. "You know, going to jail won't help us find Brazilla. They'll probably just ask us a whole bunch of questions before laughing at us for doing something so immature as forging a signature."

Thane shrugged and held out his hand for Garth's slip, which the other man immediately held up. Looping and dotting his way across the dashed line at the bottom of the page, he retracted the pen's nib and handed it back to Garth. Before he gave up the other slip, however, Thane folded each sloppily and crumpled up the corners.

"What was that for?" Garth asked, accepting both his pen and the slip.

"Just a trick I learned back in the days of smuggling school." Thane said with a shrug. "It makes it look authentic."

"Yes, because I'm sure they expect us to forge our parent's signature in order to skip school." Despite all of his protesting, Garth slipped the slip into his jacket's inner pocket before looking to Thane for direction. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait for a shift change." As he said this, Thane leaned against the wall and glanced at his wrist chrono. Closing his arms over his chest and crossing his legs at the ankle, he looked around the street-plaza they were standing in.

"That could be hours away!" Garth whined.

"It could be."

"What does that mean?"

As if on cue (which was awfully convenient, of course), a Sith soldier passed them, walking towards the other soldier. After a brief exchange of words that Thane could not make out, another soldier (presumably the one they had just talked to) walked out of the building. Thane pointed at the man's back and looked at Garth.

"That's what it means."

Garth blinked several times as he watched the retreating back of the Sith. "How in Heaven's name…?"

"Call it a sixth sense. I have a lot of them and that, well, that's one I've picked up over the years. Also, there was a schedule on the inside door of a locker that the soldiers had left open in the wall next to the lift."

"Oh."

"Observation is another talent required of smugglers."

"Yes, I would imagine so."

Thane simply smiled, obviously proud of himself. Patting Garth on the back, he turned the corner and headed straight for the new soldier.

"Permission slips?" The soldier asked, his voice oddly similar to the last guy's. Thane just wrote it off as two brothers who happened to be posted on the same world. But anyway…

Holding up his forged slip and clearing his throat so that Garth would do the same, he smiled at the soldier.

"There you are, two genuine permission slips."

The soldier took them, glanced at them, and nodded at them.

"Everything seems to be in order here. Move along."

"Wonderful. Thank you." Thane shoved the slip into his pocket and walked past the soldier and into the lift. Garth followed, obviously guilty about something. The soldier took no notice.

Once they were safely on their way down, Garth turned to look at Thane. The other man shifted slightly under the gaze before turning and staring back.

"Whaddaya looking at?"

"Nothing," Garth replied, turning to look at the lift doors.

"No, that wasn't a looking-at-nothing look. Do I have something on my face?"

Garth shook his head. "I've seen you somewhere before, I'm sure of it."

"Well, unless it was in some bar or cantina, I doubt it."

"No, it was somewhere else."

"Right," Thane said, glancing at Garth, further convinced his companion was insane. "In any case, we're nearly there. Do you know anything this place?"

"Only that there are two competing gangs running around the Lower City, fighting for control."

"That's a pretty significant piece of information." Thane turned fully to Garth and closed his arms over his chest. "Care to go on?"

"I don't know much about them," Garth shrugged. However, catching the look Thane threw his way, he continued. "They are pretty different groups of people, as I'm sure is obvious. The Dark Vulcans are emotionless and kind of creepy and the Sneaky Beckers are heartless and cold. I wouldn't want to associate with either of them but if I had my choice I'd go with the Beckers."

"Why?"

"Because they aren't creepy…or so I've been told."

"That's some wonderful advice, Thane said as the lift stopped. "Hopefully we won't have to deal with any of them."

However, as luck would have it, the two men stepped right into the middle of a brawl the moment they stepped off the lift. It appeared to be three against three in a not-so-impressive fight. Thane had seen women do a better job. Despite that, it was quickly over. The three victorious men turned to look at Garth and Thane and a shiver shot up Thane's spine. These must be the Vulcans. Garth was right, they were creepy. With bowl cut hair, pointy ears, and emotionless faces, they almost seemed out of place. That didn't stop them from looking our two heroes up and down, however, as if calculating their chances in a fight.

"Hows about letting us pass," Thane said, rubbing at the back of his head. He could take them in a fight, that much was obvious, but he just didn't feel like getting physical at the moment, at least not in this way.

The Vulcan in the center shook his head. "That wouldn't be logical."

Thane lifted a brow. "How so?"

"I am not required to tell you why," the creepy guy responded. Thane frowned.

"Do you know who I am?" He threatened. The Vulcans simply looked at each other.

"No, I must say that I don't. Should I?"

"Yeah," Thane said, drawing his sword, Garth responded by lifting his own weapon. "I'm the guy who's gonna kick your ass."

"We shall see about that," the Vulcan said, drawing his own weapon.

Both parties stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Something inside Thane told him not to attack first and he was not quite sure where it was coming from. Why the hell not? He asked himself. Shaking his head, he stepped forward. That was enough to provoke the Vulcans into action.

It took perhaps two minutes for Thane and Garth to defeat the three gang members. After cleaning his sword, Thane looked around, a terrible frown on his face.

"I'd have expected street thugs to be a bit tougher than that." As she said this, he started to loot the dead, shoving what he found in his pouch. He pulled the armor off of one of the larger Beckers and held it up. "You think this would fit me?"

Garth shrugged. "You could try."

And so he did. As if by miracle, the armor fit Thane's massive stature like a dream. He didn't put any mind to it.

"Okay, let's go. I don't want to be caught standing over a bunch of dead bodies."

Without a second glance, Thane ran off and into an apartment complex. Just as he had done in the Upper City, Thane rooted through the apartments, taking what valuables he could find. Garth hardly put up a fight as they left the complex, several fights and a few hundred credits later.

After some time spent in silence as they wandered slowly through the dank streets, Garth spoke up.

"Shouldn't we try to find our way to the Undercity?"

"What do you think I was doing in those apartments? Stealing stuff?" Thane said smoothly.

"Yes, actually," Garth responded.

"Oh, well, in that case… I'm working on it." He pointed at a couple of men that had just appeared. "Maybe they can help."

Garth frowned, obviously doubtful. "Or they might kill us."

"Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine," Thane said as he approached a man with a near identical built. The other man turned to look at the two, a deep frown creasing his features.

"What do you two want; can't you see we're busy?"

"Oh, we'll just wait then," Thane said, again not too keen on getting into a fight.

"We won't be more than a few minutes," the man said. Turning back to the small alien he was talking to, he continued to threaten the pitiful creature before pulling out his blaster and pulling the trigger. Before the alien had fallen to the ground, he turned back to Thane and Garth.

"What can I do for you two?"

"We're looking for a way into the Undercity and were just wondering if you knew how to get down there."

"That's it then?"

"Err…yeah," Thane said, suddenly wary. "Why?"

"Because I'm Canker Ohno."

"And my name is Thane Sunrider," Thane responded. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Sure I did."

Thane furrowed his brow, going over the conversation in his head. "No, no, I'm pretty sure that you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"_Children_," Garth said, butting into the conversation. Both men turned to look at him, their fists raised. Garth shrunk back as he pointed to himself. "Father."

Thane laughed. "Well that explains everything."

"It does?"

"No." He looked back at Canker and frowned. "Maybe we should start over. I'm looking for a way into the Undercity. Why is none of your concern, but I need to get down there."

Canker frowned even deeper (if possible) before pointing over Thane's shoulder.

"Go talk to the Beckers. They might be able to get you down there. I hear they're looking for a maniac to do some suicidal missions for them. You might just be what they're looking for."

"Great," Thane said, looking Canker in the eye. "I'll consider it."

"There's no other way you're getting down."

"Mhmm," Thane said as he started to back up. "I'm sure there isn't. C'mon, Garth, let's go."

Thane glared once more at Canker before turning around and heading off to find the Sneaky Becker Headquarters.


	4. Chapter 4: Cop Out

A/N: So, this parody has apparently become a "whenever the hell I feel like working on it, it gets worked on" story. That's mostly because I have to be in a certain mood to write something so over the top and it seems as if I haven't been in that mood for over 18 months. Geez. Sorry about that if anyone was holding out any hopes for this (which, personally, I highly doubt). Still, here it is...

--

Chapter 4: Cop Out

Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, opened his eyes.

He was back in the apartment he and Garth were sharing.

And his head hurt as all get out.

Sitting up, he pressed his lips together and looked around, confused. He had no recollection as to how he got back here. Or why in the hell there was a walking carpet, a girl with head tails, and a Brazilian swim suit model looking at him. The last thing he remembered doing was going to see a man about a suicide mission.

"Good morning, Sunshine," the model said. She had her arms crossed over an ample chest and was giving him a look that could burn through unpleasant places. That didn't faze Thane in any way shape or form, however. He just smiled at her.

"It's Sunrider, lovely, but if you tell me your name, I could be riding you."

She frowned. "That was unnecessarily crude. There are children in the room."

"I'm not a child," the lumpy-headed girl said. The carpet growled his agreement.

Thane looked at her. "Can you buy alcohol?"

"I can in Finland," she replied.

"That doesn't count."

The girl frowned. Thane ignored her and turned back to the model.

"Where's Garth?"

"The insufferable singer?"

"Yeah."

"Not here," the model said.

"Yes, I can see that. You must be Brazilla. You're attitude precedes you." Thane smiled then. "As do those. Want to go out for a drink?"

She looked disgusted and, honestly, Thane couldn't blame her. He often disgusted himself. It didn't stop him by any means, but he would sometimes wise up about the words that were coming out of his mouth and pause before going on. And the fact that women still, apparently, fell under his charm made it even less likely that he was going to stop any time soon. You don't earn a title like _Conqueror of Virginity_ by sitting on your ass. Or maybe you do. I don't know. Either way, it was what people called him even if he couldn't actually recall a single tryst. Everything past a couple of days ago was still fuzzy.

Brazilla regarded him. "I wouldn't even drink water with you."

Thane shrugged. "Okay. So, how'd we get back here? And why has the party multiplied?"

"Little thanks to you, that's for sure," the model said. "Well, I guess you did steal the accelerator for the Beckers and managed to win the race that should have killed you, as well as face off against some mutant clown-rats, and free Barnone from slavers, and get me out of my cage, but other than that, not much. After the win, you proceeded to get completely sloshed and could barely walk, let alone fight. You somehow managed to kill all of the Vulcuns who were holding me captive, but Garth and Barnone had to drag you back up here after that."

Thane looked at her. "Why don't I remember any of that?"

"Because you blacked out? I thought your type were supposed to be good at holding your alcohol. You are called _Alcohol Consumer of Lore_, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but the sheer volume of alcohol I drank would have killed three guys twice my size. I remember that much."

Brazilla looked doubtful. It was a look Thane had better get used to quickly because it was going to become a permanent fixture on her face over the following weeks.

But despite her perfectly good reason for Thane's memory lapse, Brazilla was wrong. The truth of the matter was that Thane's adventures through the Undercity were rather boring. His battles with the mutant clown-rats were nothing compared to what would come and his conversations with the non-mutated clowns were quite mundane, if not a little frightening for a man who was scared of clowns. Even freeing Barnone from the slavers and assisting Gizmo, the underage head-tail girl, were nothing particularly consequential except for the fact that they had joined his little party. Whoop-dee-do.

The race, on the other hand, had been spectacular. Thane was a natural born pilot and had literally left the competition in the dust. He did so well, in fact, that he considered giving up smuggling and lady killing to join the world of underground swoop racing. The consideration didn't last long, however, before he got drunk, got attacked, and got the hell out of there.

It wasn't anything Thane really needed to remember experiencing so it was hardly anything that needed a narration all of its own.

"That's where the name comes from, lovely. I can drink enough to kill an entire village. And at a certain point, I even pass the point of getting a hangover. It's a miracle." He took in a deep breath. "Damn, do I feel good, except for the headache. So, what's on the agenda for today?"

"As soon as Garth gets back we'll be looking for a ship to get off this rock. I need to go back to Dannon asap to speak with the Jedi Council about…things you don't need to know about."

"Waidda' be cryptic," Thane said with a frown. "But where are we going to find a ship."

Brazilla gave him a look that said, _you can't be serious, you pea-brained imbecile. We're practically on top of a frickin' spaceport; where do you think we'll find a ship? I thought you were a smuggler._

"I am a smuggler, but I specialize in trafficking arms and teaching droids rude gestures, not grand theft spaceship."

"Galactic!" Gizmo said. "What the biggest gun you've smuggled."

"I said arms trafficking, kid, not gun trafficking. There's been a surprisingly high demand for prosthetics since the Jedi Civil War. Their stocks have gone through the intergalactic roof."

"Well, that's not exciting."

Thane laughed. "You'd be surprised."

Gizmo frowned.

It was during that conveniently placed break in the conversation when Garth returned. He had a shopping bag with him.

"You're awake. I thought we might have actually lost you this time."

Thane rolled his eyes. "What'd you buy me?"

"Why would I buy something for you?"

"Because I was the one who was dying."

Garth's voice was hushed, "I knew it."

"Can it," Thane said. "Seriously, what's in the bag?"

Garth looked more tragic than usual and Thane got worried, which was not a familiar feeling. He never got worried because there was never anything to worry about. Everything always turned out right in the end and that's how he had always lived his life; the small part of it he could remember, that is.

Now he just had to figure out where his Jedi tattoo came from… But that was neither here nor there so Thane put it out of his mind for the moment.

"Garth. What's in the bag. Garth. Garth. Gaarrrth…"

Brazilla gave him the murderous look again and Thane smiled dumbly at her.

"Food, if you must know—"

"For me?"

"—and the keys to a ship."

"Sweet! Garth, you are a regular crook, you are. Hand 'em over."

Brazilla on the other hand, did not look so pleased. It was obvious from the top of her perfect head to the tips of her manicured toes. Tossing her blonde-streaked-brown hair that was thick, heavy, and held an enviable natural wave, the female Jedi snorted.

"That was entirely too easy."

Garth shrugged. "There was a sign in the supermarket advertising a ship for sale. Since we had no other way off Ferris, I decided to give the guy a call. It was a steal."

Thane looked worried again. He didn't like these circumstances.

"Did you see it?"

"No, but he told me where it was parked."

Thane looked heavenward.

"Didn't they teach you in soldierin' school to never buy a ship without fully inspecting it? I mean, really, Garth."

The other man hardly even blinked, which was weird. Thane would have expected him to go off into song about how their ship was now going to blow up and kill them all and that Ferris would enjoy a fireworks display made up of human remains falling through the atmosphere and burning up before becoming ash that would drop upon the city like snow. Peopley snow.

Thane scowled. Now _he_ was doing it.

"Well _excuse_ me for doing something to get us off this planet," Garth said, the sing-songiness in his voice still absent. "Maybe I should just go tell him that I've changed my mind and would like to stick around for a little bit longer, but thank you for the ship anyway."

The two men stared at each other until Brazilla stomped her foot. Thane looked at it, not sure he had ever seen someone do that outside of a movie.

"We should at least go look at it to see if it is in any condition to get us off this planet rather than just fighting over how it was purchased. I have a feeling we will want to break atmo soon; something dark is descending."

They all looked at her.

"Gee, thanks for sobering the mood."

"I'm a Jedi. It's what we do."

Thane arched one eyebrow. "I'm so glad I'm not one of you."


	5. Chapter 5: A Few Familiar Lines

A/N – Took me three months to find the ending of this chapter (just like it took me two months to find the ending of the chapter to another story that I posted a few days ago!) but I'm pretty happy with it. Methinks, though, that I've got to go play KOTOR again. I'm starting to forget what I need to parody, which is something of a problem. You'd think that going on four times through the game would be enough, yeah?

--

Chapter 5: In Which There Are a Few Familiar Lines

"That's not a ship."

Thane Sunrider and his party of five (or four, but who's counting?) were standing on a landing pad that threatened to detach from the main dock and fall all the way to the Undercity at any moment. That being the case, they had left Barnone on the dock. He could hear them from where he stood anyway.

"Sure it is," Gizmo replied. "It's got a hull, hasn't it?"

"But can it fly?"

"The flier said it could, and quite well," Garth said. He was standing behind Thane and Brazilla and on the spot the pad threatened to snap in two. When it failed he would either be the first to fall or the only one (besides the walking carpet) to live. "Besides, it's got a flier. That should be a good sign that it flies."

Thane glanced back at him. "You don't get to talk anymore."

"But…"

"No talking."

Garth pouted.

"So, what do we get to call the rubbish heap?"

Silence.

"Garth?" More silence. "Garth?" No response. "Dammit, Garth, you can talk when I ask you a question."

"Well, you didn't say that."

Thane rolled his eyes and muttered something. Gizmo and Barnone exchanged looks. Brazilla frowned. Garth scratched his head.

"Just answer the question."

"The _Velour Pigeon._"

"Shit," Thane said. "You can't be serious."

"As serious as I always am," Garth said as if it was supposed to act as an assurance. Thane gave him an amused look. The Republic-soldier-country-western-star-wannabe looked hurt. "What? I take life very seriously, from its bone wrenching start to its inevitable heart-breaking end."

"What the hell happened to you," Thane started, crossing his arms over his well-muscled chest, "to turn you into such a pansy?"

"Oh, you know, my wife was killed by my mentor (who is currently circling the city) and my son went MIA but is suspected to have turned into a Sith. The usual mix of tragedy that comes with everyday life." This time he got a couple of notes in.

Everyone else was quiet.

"Well," Thane said, breaking through the silence created by the drone of a hundred speeders and a thousand people. "That's a downer."

Garth shrugged. "I expected it."

"Come again?"

"Nothing good can happen without something ten times worse coming to follow."

Thane lifted his brow. "I must have had one hell of a good life before I met you."

Garth seemed to glower but Thane couldn't be sure. It was just one more tragic look from his compliment of tragic looks.

Gizmo looked back and forth between the two men before pointing at the ship. "Are we just going to stand here talking about it flying or are we actually going to start the thing up?"

Thane narrowed his eyes in her direction, almost as if he had forgotten her existence. It took the big man a moment to find his voice. "Who said you got to tag along, kid?"

"I'm not a kid."

The carpet roared, growled, roared again, and snorted. Gizmo translated: "Bar says that he owes you a life debt for saving him. And where he goes, I go."

"Crap." Thane frowned. "Well, at least I have a new topper on my list of things to never-ever do again. Number one: never save a frickin' carpet if you don't want a pet."

_Growl-roar_

"He's not a dog."

"You're right. A dog I could like."

"You are aware that he can rip off your limbs, yeah?" Gizmo said with a smirk. "Life debt doesn't equal non-injury pact."

Thane just shrugged. "I can deal with that. I run arms and know where to get them. Besides, I have a feeling I'll grow fond of him eventually. I might even start to care about you, too, kid. Who knows where this thing is going. I certainly never thought I would go back to Dannon."

Everyone looked at him.

"What?" Brazilla asked.

"Yeah, what?" Garth repeated.

Thane shrugged again. "I just sort of feel like I've been there before. Jedi need new arms, too, you know. More than anyone else, in fact, what with their light swords and fight-picking tendencies."

"The point is to avoid a fight," Brazilla said.

"Ha. Show me a Jedi who's avoided a fight and I'll show you an honest smuggler."

"None exist."

"Precisely, dollface."

The woman frowned deeply before turning around and walking up the gangway, disappearing into the shadow of the ship as she did so. Thane watched the other members of his new found group follow her example, his scowl growing deeper as each person boarded. At one point that morning he honestly thought that he would be able to hang out in some dive bar until a job presented itself, at which point he would continue on with his life of crime. Chauffeuring some hot Jedi around the galaxy wasn't what he had in mind. The view was nice, but the sound wasn't.

Following the others, a thought suddenly crossed Thane's sobering mind. It stayed there until he finally found the cockpit. Apparently going straight had been the wrong decision, a mistake he quickly realized when he visited every room twice before finding the cockpit. When he got there, Garth was already in the pilot seat. Thane frowned.

"Hey, cowboy, I'm driving this outfit."

"I got here first."

"And I called shotgun," Brazilla said, turning in the co-pilot seat. She gave him a half-smile that suggested any number of things before turning back to the control panel in front of her. "You have something on your mind."

"Yeah, but I don't think it's anything Garth would want to hear."

The look she threw over her shoulder was smoldering.

"Fine. I can hold more than one thought, thank you very much. I guess I'll just go with the less interesting one." Thane looked at the back of Garth's head. "The Sith put up shields, or so the soldier I was buying drinks for told me."

"I got the codes," Garth said. Brazilla nodded.

"What? Where was I?"

"Unconscious."

"Oh."

_Beep_

Thane turned around to see a cylindrical droid rolling towards him. Halfway into the cockpit it stopped and headed for the navigation system. A good blast of blue lightning stopped the droid's curious arm and froze him where he stood. Thane cocked one brow.

"That's J4G-GL," Garth said. "He came with the ship. I'm told he shouldn't be allowed near keyboards."

"What use is he then?"

"He's brilliant, even for a droid. It's just the navigation system he has problems with. And dialogue. Put him in conversation with the ship and he'll probably just create a big mess of things." Garth was typing the same pattern over and over again into the console and it was starting to get on Thane's nerves. He turned away from the little black and grey droid to watch the man do whatever it was he was doing.

"Yes?" Garth asked, glancing in his rearview mirror at Thane. Thane turned around to see if there was a window on the other side of the ship that would constitute the presence of such a mirror before turning to look into the unless object and, indirectly, at Garth. A graduation tassel hung from it.

"We're kind of in a rush. Word on the street is that the Sith are going to destroy this planet."

"Yup."

"So?"

"I'm just waiting for you to sit down and put a seat belt on."

Thane blinked.

"I'm a dad. I can't help it."

"Now's a perfect time to break old habits, old dog." Still, Thane sat down and strapped in. He didn't want to end up as a ceiling pancake after all. The fate of the galaxy depended on him. All of the lives on all of the planets in all of the systems of every star in the night time sky were looking to him to save them, even those who didn't know their life was in danger. Or at least that's what that funny dream had told him.

"Naw," Garth said. "I like my old habits. Besides, the galaxy needs you."

"Hey! I was just thinking about that!"

Garth looked at him again in the rearview mirror.

"No, really! I had this dream last night. It was kind of cool. Do you think there's any booze on this thing? I don't feel like myself."

Brazilla turned to look at him as Garth lifted the _Velour Pigeon_ off of her creaking landing pad, which promptly fell into the depth, probably killing a few things before and after landing. Tomorrow there would probably be an earthquake on the other side of the planet.

"Can you think of nothing else except your next drink?" she said.

Thane smiled. "I can think of you and me. Let's get stiff."

"You disgust me," she said. Still, her eyes lingered a little longer than she would like to admit on his sculpted body, each muscle evident beneath his clothing. He wasn't beefy like the men those romance novels you find in line at a supermarket. No, Thane was leaner, longer. Still much larger than your average man, he didn't bulge. Well, not all the time, at least.

"Your loss, honey."

"Can we get back to what matters?" Garth cut in. Both Jedi… Both Brazilla and Thane looked over at him.

"I matter," Thane said. Garth rolled his eyes.

And then the world went to pieces. Or seemed to, at least. The buckle of Thane's seatbelt flew open sending him heading straight for the ceiling as the ship plummeted out of the air. Actually, thanks to physics, Thane was in the same spot he had been. The ceiling just suddenly moved. And then the floor; Thane grunted as his entire body impacted.

"I think the bombardment has started," Garth said tragically.

"You know what I think?" Thane muttered as he peeled himself off the durasteel and back into his chair as the ship bucked, nearly sending him rolling backwards down the aisle.

"That we are going to end up a grandiose fireworks display, celebrating the death of every Bueller this side of the planet? At least now I can join my wife, and maybe my son. If only he was spared from a life worse than death. Maybe then I could be a happy man." Garth stated to hum to himself, singing lyrics now and then, as he evaded warhead after warhead, laser blast after laser blast, until they were clear of the atmosphere and jetting off into space.

Thane was impressed. The man could _fly_ for being such a melodramatic fool. He almost wanted to clap but fought the urge. It wasn't terribly hard.

Once they were safely in hyperspace (which was another tense number of seconds as the_Pigeon_ rocked, tilted, vomited space junk, and then finally, reluctantly, made the jump) Thane stood up and stretched.

"Well, that was tiring. I need a drink."

"You only sat there," Garth said, turning in the seat.

"And it was tiring. You've got skill, Garth." He then promptly began to ignore the man. "Care to join me, Mistress? I've got this splitting headache, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I think some vodka might do the trick."

Brazilla looked at him, her jaw slack. She was about to tell him that it was actually because he was once a very powerful Jedi who had inadvertently caused the death of every life on the planet they had just left because he was the evil of evils, once upon a time, before she had swooped in and basically killed him but didn't, which meant they had some funky psychic connection that she didn't want to admit to finding sort of hot, but chose not to because the Jedi Council liked to be dramatic and wanted to reveal everything to Thane Sunrider (aka Darth Relevent, Superbad Villian Extraordinaire) when the time was just right, which probably meant three weeks too late. So, instead, she said, "You're probably right."

"Aren't you going to try and talk me out of it?"

"We have no use for you until we reach Dannon, so have at the bar as you will. Barnone might be willing to drag you out of the way if we don't chose to use you as a doorstop instead." She stood up. Slowly eyeing Thane, a half-smile on her face, she squeezed past him closer than necessary and sauntered down the hallway. Thane watched her go.

"Yeowza," he said.

"Please restrict your lusting to outside the cockpit," Garth said. In fact, he had just made a sign stating that exact sentiment and was in the process of taping it to the wall. The lettering was beautiful. Thane said as much. Garth frowned. "Some mothers put their sons in ballroom dance lessons, mine put me in calligraphy. Anyone can dance, she used to say, but only a few can write well."

Thane arched a single brow. "Right. Maybe I'll mix a little rum with my vodka."

"That sounds disgusting."

Thane grinned stupidly over his shoulder as he walked off. "No, it sounds like medicine. Nighty-night, Garth."


	6. Chapter 6: A Little Captain in You

A/N: Written while I should have been working on my thesis architecture project. My brain is a scrambled mess so some of this might be a scrambled mess. Hey, woe is the student who is six weeks away from her B. Arch, right? Or, maybe, insane is the student… Oh, and the lyrics that show up later in the chapter are from Roisin Murphy's song "If We're in Love".

--

Chapter 6: A Little Captain in You Leads to Pulsating Lightsabers and Something Like the Truth

Thane sneezed. He sneezed so hard that he was shaken from his premonitory dreams. He sat up, sneezing again, only to hit his head on the bulkhead and send himself straight to the floor, his head swimming only from the knock to his skull and not from the alcohol in his system.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was staring at ten red-painted toenails attached to ten blue toes, which were, in turn, attached to a pair of small blue feet. It took a moment for his brain to remember that the hot Jedi did not have blue skin and that this was in fact…

"Gizmo," Thane groaned.

"You talk in your sleep," the girl said. Thane rolled over and put his hands on his chest. He was very, very glad that the girl was wearing a flight suit. "Loudly."

"What was I saying?" Thane said, looking Gizmo in the eye.

"Something like 'No, don't touch that, darlin', it's mighty dangerous. Most women don't know how to handle it. Well, if you're sure. Yeah, that's right."

Thane's eyes opened wide as he tried to remember what he had been dreaming about just before he had woken up. It certainly sounded like the kind of dream that he would never want a child to overhear. Not that he would want anyone to find out that he cared about the well being of, well, anything. He was Thane Sunrider, Conqueror of Virginity. If it came to be known that he was something like a virtuous man, the galaxy might very well fold in on itself and all life would cease to be. So, he continued to lie there, a slight smirk replacing the momentary look of horror. He even folded his hands behind his head and pretended to enjoy the view from down below, all the while wracking his brain for any semblance of the dream.

When the dream did not come to mind, he pushed himself up off the floor and brushed his hands together.

"What were you dreaming about?" the adolescent asked.

"A lightsaber," Thane said. "A very big lightsaber."

Gizmo giggled. "Garth wants you in the cockpit."

Thane started. "Shit, wait, shoot. No, shit. He wants me?"

"In the cockpit, yeah." Gizmo gave the big man a funny look. "You suddenly got all pale. If you're worried about the sex dream— You've got a conscious, don't you?"

"No. Lightsaber," Thane said, answering both questions. "It was seriously about a lightsaber. And a duel, with Brazilla." It was, in fact. Thane had been dueling with Brazilla with a rather large lightsaber that had a longer than usual, red blade. She had been all pale and scary and Thane had been trying to taunt her into a fight.

"Okay, whatever. I don't know what you Jedi call your… Forget it. Garth wants to see you."

"I'm not a Jedi," Thane said, following Gizmo through the maze. "How old are you anyway?"

"Sixteen."

"You don't sound like any sixteen year old girl I ever knew. They were all embarrassed about everything all the time."

"I grew up around spacers and they don't give a crap about who you are or what you have in your pants. They talk the same all the time to anyone who will listen. You learn about the birds and the bees real fast, no matter how much your deadbeat brother tries to shelter you from it. It don't help, though, when he runs off with some sweet talkin' girl who's only interested in one thing and is out for all that she can get from him on his next get-rich-quick scheme and leaves you with one of those foul-mouthed spacers who don't give a crap about you when you're thirteen."

"Oh."

"I kinda want to find him, though, if only to give him a piece of my mind. Last I heard he was an errand boy on Taboo. Some gettin' rich quick that is."

Thane lifted his brow. "I've a feeling we'll end up there one way or another. Just hold tight, kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Look, I'm old enough to be your father. Your young father." Thane frowned. "You're a kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Then think of it as an endearing nickname."

Gizmo frowned. "Whatever," she said as she walked off, leaving Thane in the cockpit alone with Garth.

"I hear you wanted to see me?"

Garth looked up. "Oh, yeah, it was more a ploy to get Gizmo out of here. She was fussing with things and going on about her deadbeat brother."

"Yeah, I got a bit of that, too. She was also talking about being okay with sex, which was weird to hear out of her."

Garth looked back at the big smuggler and lifted his brow. "And what, exactly, brought that subject matter up? I don't have to remind you about certain laws that govern our galaxy, do I? I must admit that I'm surprised to hear that out of Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda."

"I'm a smuggler, I don't live by the galactic rules. And she overheard and mistook a perfectly innocent dream for something else. And don't ask if I have a conscious, I've heard enough of that today."

"Wasn't going to."

Thane frowned yet again. It was an expressing he was really getting sick of, which was a thought he sent straight up to the heavens. Getting back to his conversation with Garth—which was one of the first real, civil conversations they had had without any of Thane's very creative insults—Thane shrugged and threw in a, "Wannabe," for good measure. Garth rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," the wannabe said. "We're about to drop out of hyperspace just above Dannon."

"Good, I'm ready to get out of this boat. I'm glad I was out of my mind for most of it."

"Oh, that reminds me," Garth said, swiveling in his chair. "Brazilla is on a warpath looking for you. She wouldn't touch you in your sleep—something about Jedi honour—but now that you're awake, you might want to keep an eye on your back. I wasn't there, but gossip girl Gizmo related the story to me."

"What did I do?"

"It sounds like you insulted her, her mother, and her female master all in one foul blow. I think you told her to be careful about her feelings for you because, in your travels, you found a way to go back into time and might very well be her father and that her calling you 'Big Daddy' the night before was a little too close for comfort, considering the circumstances. I'm not sure what you said about her master, but it was probably along the lines that celibate Jedi give up their vows for you all the time and that her master had done so many, many times. Personally, I think you had no idea who you were talking to or where you were."

"Yeah, you're right," Thane said, somewhat more pale than his normal tan self. "I sort of remember that and I seriously think that I thought that I was in some dive bar in the Outer Limits talking to an ugly spacer. I honestly don't remember being on this boat last night."

"That was two days ago."

"I see. I'm glad Brazilla chose not to touch me in my sleep. I'd probably be castrated if she hadn't stuck to her codes." Thane paused, pressed his lips together, and then shook his head. "I'll check later just to be sure." Still, his hand wandered somewhere near the vicinity of the front of his pants.

"To be sure of what?" came Brazilla's voice from behind. Thane literally jumped.

"Hi, darlin'."

"Don't call me that."

"I had a flattering dream about you last night," he lied. He wasn't sure why he was being so jumpy and emotional this morning (maybe he was now somewhere in between and man and a woman? He really needed to check on that…) but he had a feeling that it was because Brazilla, despite being very slim, could probably hand his ass to him without breaking a sweat.

"Gizmo told me. Big, pulsating lightsabers?"

"Not my words…exactly," Thane said, his hands up in defense. "Hey, when I drink that much I can't be held accountable for what I say, especially when it puts me into a coma for two days."

"So you remember how much you drank but claim to be not held responsible for what you say?"

"I remember nothing, but I can count. Four empty fifths in my cabin, and another five in the common room. And, look, there's another one hiding up there in the corner. How'd it get there?" Thane scratched his head. "I guess I've got a little captain in me, though." He smiled. "Like they say, I can drink anyone in this galaxy dead. I've gotta piss."

"How do you know you were the only one drinking!" Brazilla said to his retreating back.

"Because we've got a fatherly Wookie, a Jedi, an AA member," he pointed to himself, "a kid, and a droid in our party."

"Jedi drink," Brazilla said, sitting in the co-pilot's seat. She seemed to deflate slightly, now that Thane wasn't around to look at her.

"Not Jedi like you."

Brazilla frowned. "Yeah, you're right. What did you tell him anyway to get him so scared?"

"Only a shade of the truth. I didn't think he would be so horrified if I told him that he was singing you the lyrics 'if we're in love, we should make love, when will we be lovers?'."

"I don't know, that might have been better, to tell the truth. His tale about going back in time was more amusing than anything else. It was when he vomited on my boots that he crossed the line. Jedi… people should know better."

Garth gave her a sidelong glance. "He's a Jedi, isn't he?"

"Don't tell anyone you know. The council likes to reveal these things in their own time. He's an incredibly powerful man and it was a terrible shame when he left us to become the man you know. He was…disillusioned by our Order and sought a different destiny than the path the Jedi had him on."

Garth bit his lower lip. He wasn't sure if he was more disturbed by being told that Thane was a Jedi or by the fact that Brazilla had so blatantly lied to him. There was something else going on here. And it wasn't his country western singing tendencies that were telling him that. It was everything.


	7. Chapter 7: I Love Fuzzy Little Puppies

A/N: I think I might have to thank The Boosh for giving me a kick in the pants to write again. After being introduced to them and then very quickly watching a very large amount of their work (from their live DVD to all of their episodes including the elusive pilot, to a whole bunch of random stand up on youtube…obsess much?) I found that very special mood it takes for me to write this thing. I've also been reading a lot of Terry Pratchett. And now that I am all graduated (with a college degree and everything!) I have a little more free time because once I go home for the day, I've nothing much to do besides exercise and eat dinner. And weekends freedom. I don't know if that means I'll write faster (or just socialize more), but it might. Ramble…

--

Chapter Seven: I Love Fuzzy Little Puppies…But I Couldn't Eat a Whole One!

Thane must have fallen asleep in the ten minutes it took Garth to enter Dannon's atmosphere, because the next thing he knew he was flying off the bench he was sitting on; gravity kicked in with a jerk. The real kind, not this faulty artificial stuff (Thane would sometimes wake up to find himself floating). He opened his eyes to a chorus of laughter from the Wookie, the kid, and the droid.

"Shut up," he said, rubbing the growing welt on his forehead. All they did was laugh harder and Thane wondered at the humanity of it all. His brain could be swelling as they laughed and he could die without a moment's noticed. He was the glue that held this misfit band of travelers together, so if he died, what point would there be in going on? For the others, that is. Thane would have some difficulty moving on with life once his concussion caused an aneurysm and he died.

But then Thane remembered that none of them were, in fact, human, so he quit the lounge for the cockpit. He still wondered, somewhere in the back of his swollen brain, if his fall could or would cause an aneurysm. If it did, well, Thane probably wouldn't know.

When Thane entered the cockpit, the viewport was filled with the idyllic blue sky and green grass of Dannon. Though he couldn't make out details at this height, Thane knew there were packs of probiotics wandering around down there in the grasslands, hunting down unwary travelers, praying on lactose deer, and swimming in trugoy bogs. The air outside smelled of fruit and dairy due to the fields of invasive blackberry plants and the herds of cows that spotted the landscape.

Millenia ago, Dannon had been conquered and re-settled by large blonde warriors from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow in the Northern Reaches of the galaxy (which lay just beyond the Rhineland Sector in the Outer Limits; the hammer of the gods). They brought to Dannon their particular sense of dress (mainly fur and horns), their culture of trade ("I'll give you a strapping blonde baby if you give me your village and all your valuables"), and the strange probiotic hound whose spittle was filled with nutrients. The fur and horn look had been outlawed some years ago by young and idealistic animal rights activists, but the probiotics had flourished in the trugoy and the trading tradition now persisted in the form of other-worldly merchants who only conquered (unless you considered their prices a form of wallet-rape.).

Thane knew he had been to Dannon before—especially now that he was looking at it—but he couldn't for the life of him figure when or why. It certainly didn't seem like the kind of place he would willingly come to. There were too many rolling hills and groves of trees for the likes of him. Still, there was that niggling little voice in the back of his mind that told him he had grown up here. It was the same voice that told him what the Jedi tattoo on his arm meant, so he promptly ignored it.

Well, that and the floor suddenly fell out from under him leaving Thane to grapple for the back of Garth's seat in order to not end up in a heap on the floor.

Damn inertia.

The _Velour Pigeon_ rocked in a cloud of coolant and engine exhaust as Garth came to a jerking halt on the landing pad. The tall duracrete walls blocked out the rolling hills and groves of trees and Thane could almost pretend he was in the middle of some greasy city instead of on a grassy planet. Still, there was all that fresh air out there that sparkled in the sunlight rather than the processed air inside the ship or the polluted stuff on the worlds Thane liked to occupy, so suffocation would be a key thing to avoid. Thane made a mental note of it.

Once the boat had stopped rocking and vomiting gaseous bile, Thane smacked Garth up one side the head and down the other.

"Nice one."

"We're all in one piece, aren't we?"

_CRASH!!_

"Well, almost," Thane said. "But I was talking about bringing me to a sparsely populated planet. If the fresh air doesn't get me, the lack of attention will. Or maybe the sunlight. I'm kind of a mole."

Brazilla turned to look at him. "You really are unbelievable. I don't think I have ever met someone who complains quite so much as you." She then frowned and looked at Garth. "What was that crashing noise?"

"I think it was the port side stabilizer," Garth responded. Everyone seemed far too nonchalant, all things considered.

"We need that," said Thane, stating the obvious.

Garth gave him a parental Look. "I'll put someone on it."

"I don't think that'll help much. What's he gonna do? Stand there and twiddle his thumbs? Have a little rest when he really should be reattaching it to the ship?"

"I meant that I'll get someone to fix it. If I can find anyone to fix it. Dannon might be fresh out of mechanics and all of the tools it would take to fix the stabilizer. There's no way we in this lonely band of travelers would be able to do it with the lack of tools we have. And even if we did manage to fix it, exiting the atmosphere would be just too much for the majestic _Pigeon_ to handle and we would start falling apart, piece by piece, broken heart by—"

Thane noticed the guitar beneath the dash for the first time as Garth reached for it, no doubt to pick a heartrending tune to accompany his lyric.

"They had better fix it quick, then," he said, cutting Garth off. The other man's hand snatched back from the bridge of the instrument, disappointment painting his features like a lonely sunset that spilled out over a vast and empty plain, hailing the dark, cold night that would follow—two lovers destined never to meet…

Everyone in the cockpit frowned, especially Garth for being outdone.

"I have a feeling we'll need to get out of here quickly," Thane said, getting back to the topic on hand. He seemed to be looking at a spot several inches beyond the plane of the viewport, but when he blinked, it was gone. Garth figured it was either his secret Jedi training getting the best of him or a growing concussion. The weal on the devastatingly handsome, would-be smuggler's forehead told more than Thane would ever admit to.

"You're not afraid of a few probiotics, are you?"

"I barbeque probiotics," Thane said with a snort. "And eat their fuzzy little puppies. Those hounds are nothing. Less than nothing. No. I just have a bad feeling about this. And I don't get bad feelings. It's not in my genetic make-up."

"I suppose you're made of sunshine, too?" Garth said, standing.

"I am. And sunshine people don't get bad feelings." Thane gave them a single, resolute nod. It showed that he was unyielding, unwavering, and even unbendable on the subject. Thane Sunrider, Alcohol Consumer of Lore and Conqueror of Virginity never got bad feelings. It was a definite and stanch fact, one that he was firm and stubborn about it.

Putting the thesaurus back into J4G-GL and patting the droid on the dome, Thane ran a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair and smiled a dazzling smile at Brazilla. "I suppose we had better get you back to your conclave, darlin'. I can't imagine depriving the Jedi of you much longer."

"Mm," was her noncommittal answer. Garth looked at her. Thane looked at the two of them.

"What's going on? What aren't you telling me?" He narrowed his eyes and rather than just looking sleepy, like most people do who try it, he looked mean. Really mean. Brazilla's complexion paled slightly.

"I don't know the specifics," she lied. "But the Jedi Council contacted us yesterday to say they wanted to speak with you."

"Me?"

"Yes. They…" she hesitated. "They believe you have the potential to channel the Force like no one they have ever seen or trained in their life time. Most of us have a mental stopper, of sorts, that limits our power, but we have sensed none of that in you."

Thane stared at her for a moment, surprised at the somber tone that suddenly overtook them. A strange memory flickered through the back of his concussed brain that enveloped his entire mind in a dark shadow. His blue eyes even darkened for a moment.

But it disappeared quickly and Thane returned to being the smuggler he thought he was.

He then began to laugh. Though, a bellowing guffaw might be a more appropriate way to describe it. Moisture (not tears) welled in his eyes and he bent over to slap his knee and hold his stomach. Garth and Brazilla looked at each other. Again.

"I take it this means he doesn't believe you," Garth said.

"I guess not."

"And what was that whole thing with his eyes?" Garth waved at his own face. "Is it physically possible for someone's eyes to change like that?"

"I didn't think it was, but his just did. I know a lot of authors like to use it more as a metaphor than an actual physical change in the character. You know, as if he's remembering some dark past, or a terrible thing that he's done to the galaxy."

Garth frowned. "Thane was a good Jedi, right?"

"Yes," Brazilla said, which was a fraction of the truth. "He was a very good Jedi. Everybody either wanted to be him or be near him."

"Seems a little cliché."

"But it's also the truth." Brazilla didn't find it necessary to tell him about the fact that the man who was currently doubled over in laughter was the big, bad, notorious super villain Darth Relevant who had nearly brought the galaxy to its proverbial knees. Only she, the Council, and a few others knew who Knight Sunrider had become. If the general populace ever found out that their Knight in shining armor was the same person who had nearly killed them all, mass outrage would ensue. Not against the Jedi. Oh no. The anger would be directed against each other because, obviously, it was somehow their fault they were being punished by their hero.

Hell hath no fury like a Jedi scorned.

It was a good three minutes more until Thane stopped laughing. He wiped at the moisture (not tears) that had collected in his eyes and looked at Brazilla.

"And they say Jedi don't have a sense of humor."

"Who says that?"

"Everyone." Thane shrugged. "But you've got to admit, the conclaves are kind of quiet. And the Council, well, they might as well Botox their faces into a scowl, 'cause they've got no other expression to express."

A slight smile crossed her lips. "How do you know that?"

"I don't know…" Thane frowned. "But I'm not a Jedi."

--

_Ten minutes later…_

"The Force flows strong through your bones, Thane Sunrider."

The big man's shoulders slumped. "Dammit."

"You're disappointed?" Master Nixon grumbled.

"I just didn't want Brazilla to be right, is all."

The four Jedi Masters—ranging from a toadstool to some grumpy old men—looked at Brazilla. They didn't turn so much as slowly rotate at the exact same, ominous speed. Even Thane would admit that it was really creepy, if not a little freaky.

"Is that true, Brazilla? You told him," the last was more of a statement than a question from Adoy, the toadstool.

"Only that he could touch the Force, Masters. Nothing more."

They sighed collectively.

"We are very disappointed, Knight Sham," Adoy said.

"We trained you better than that," said Czar. He was the largest of the four Masters (in height and circumference; portly would be an appropriate description) and had a particular love for fur hats, which went well with his grey streaked beard and moustache and generally jolly nature. He, like Thane, was a fan of drinking and claimed that it only enhanced his awareness of the living Force, rather than inhibit it. His poison of choice was vodka, where Thane preferred rum.

Brazilla hung her head in shame as the Masters shook theirs in unison.

"You should know by now that it is the duty of the conclave Masters to reveal life altering secrets and conclusions in our own time, even if it comes too late," Master Nixon said. The fourth, unnamed Master simply nodded. "We are not crooks, but we are the conduits of a higher power. The Force works in mysterious ways."

Thane, who had been remarkably silent, rolled his eyes. "Look, don't come down hard on her," he said, giving Brazilla a wink that suggested many truly terrible (wonderful? pleasurable?) things. "I demanded that she tell me, and I tend to get what I want when I'm in that sort of a mood. I'm charismatic like that."

Thane flashed them a brilliant smile that would be impossible to say no to, had Thane been asking for anything. Like total galactic domination and obedience.

The Masters exchanged a knowing glance that suggested many terrible things as well, though these were on the extreme opposite end of the scale as those that Thane was suggesting; castration being one.

The Wookie, the kid, the country-western wannabe, and the droid (figuratively, of course) blinked in the unison. They knew the Masters knew something was up. Brazilla was obviously in on it, otherwise she probably wouldn't be making such a show of herself, and Thane seemed blissfully unaware, though Garth couldn't help but wonder if the rusted gears in the back of Thane's mind had just been given some oil for thought. The bad guy-turned-smuggler had the tendency to show his brilliance brilliantly masked behind naiveté and dumb luck, but everything simply turned out a little too perfect through all of his drunken lullabies to be sheer happenstance. Yes, Garth decided, Thane Sunrider was hiding something big. If only he could figure out where in the name of the Force he had heard the other man's name before.

Thane, of course, was actually blissfully unaware of everything he had done only weeks prior. He was perhaps the only person in the galaxy who knew very little about the terrible things Darth Relevant had done to the galaxy (which included the constant loop of ABBA in his prisons) as well as the only person in the room who was unsurprised by the Masers decision to (re)train him as a Jedi. Brazilla was vehemently opposed even though she knew this was coming and the rest of the _Pigeon's_ crew groaned at the thought of Thane Sunrider, Alcohol Consumer of Lore and Conqueror of Virginity, gaining access to all that power.

All those poor women, thought one-half of the room.

This had better not be another mistake, thought the other half, who of course blamed themselves for their hero's fall.


	8. Chapter 8: Training Montage with Music

Chapter Eight: Training Montage with Music

Thane woke with a smile the next morning. Unlike the last several times he had woken (blaring sirens, falling out of bed, falling off a bench) this time everything was quiet and he was in a large and comfortable bed that was in a room he only had to share if he so chose. And despite the many offers he had received from the female population of the Conclave, Thane had chosen to just sleep instead of participating in any nighttime activities (such as capture the flag, hide-and-go-seek, sardines…)

His fears about the sparse population of Dannon were instantly nullified when the people of the Conclave flocked to him. He didn't know how they knew who he was or why they treated him like he was some kind of a hero or celebrity, but he loved the attention and reveled in it. They followed him around the Conclave as the Masters gave him a tour, swooning, cheering, and offering favors. Children wanted to hold his hand, men wanted to shake his hand, and women wanted to, well…

The only thing that seemed strange about the previous day was how easy everything had been. The Masters had wanted to test him on a few basics—lifting rocks with his mind, catching things while blindfolded, picking people out of a lineup (blindfolded)—all of which came to him as naturally as walking in a straight line did while sloshed. Today he was to go even further, some of which meant stretching his brain in ways he didn't know possible and others of which meant stretching his body in ways he was proud of.

The general population of the Conclave was surprised to see him receiving training from the Masters. As far as they knew, he was already a Knight of the highest caliber and, sure, he had disappeared for awhile, but that wasn't terribly unusual. Jedi went away all the time following dreams of becoming the mysterious and silent hero who swoops in when he's needed and disappears before anyone quite realizes he was there. A sort of Dark Knight, if you will. But it was almost as if he was trying to push them all away now that he was back; as if he was too good to associated with them. In reality, all Thane wanted was their attention.

What really irked everyone was that he knew his name, and he had basically the same personality but, as some of his former friends quickly found out, he didn't know who they were or why they were talking to him in such a familiar tone, as well as laughing in their faces when they told him he had once been a Jedi. And if there was one thing Smuggler Thane didn't liked, it was when strangers spoke to him as if they knew him and told him fantastic make-believe stories. It only led to trouble. The Jedi all saw that he was the same man—the same humor, the same voice, the same intolerable beauty as their former hero—but there was something about him that was different. Some who didn't know any better would say smug.

So, as it came to be, the Conclave quickly stopped following Thane from place to place. The other Jedi and pupils distanced themselves from this man who claimed to not remember them (who also claimed to never forget a face) and Thane became miserable and reluctant to continue training. Brazilla, Garth and company grew concerned by the big man's depression. It wasn't like him. He was made of sunshine and had irrevocable machismo, so to see him slink around without boasting about something was strange.

Brazilla was also concerned that Thane was heading down the road to remembering that he had been Darth Relevant, Super-Bad Villain Extraordinaire in a former life, so she set about trying to find some way to cheer him up. Garth was taken aback by her sudden change of heart and slight change of character, but was not terribly surprised in the long run. Thane was the kind of man you couldn't help but like, so when his depression resulted in a slumped posture and forlorn glances over his shoulders, even the coldest of cold hearts like Brazilla's melted a little. Thane was, after all, acting like the saddest of all pound puppies.

So, the Amazonian Jedi started by telling people that Thane had been terribly injured and that all of his memories had disappeared in a massive amnesic episode. In fact, she told them, when Thane woke up, he came to think that he was someone else and none of Brazilla's persuasions could convince him otherwise. That being the case, the Masters had chosen to retrain him in the ways of the Jedi rather than allow him back into the world with a fledging understanding of the gifts he had quickly discovered he possessed.

"Does he know all of that?" asked a pretty young woman. She was standing in front of a fair sized group of people that Brazilla had gathered to tell Thane's woeful and mostly-false tale of a misplaced identity.

"No," said Brazilla, tucking a magnificent lock of hair behind her ear, "and none of you had better tell him. He is already having enough difficulty with the person he thinks he is; we don't need to open up a channel that might allow his real personality back through. I don't think his mind could cope with the two consciouses."

Besides, Brazilla added to herself, that would mean the death of us all.

"Oooh," the group said as they turned to look at Thane, who had just appeared in the courtyard. He was wearing a grey sweat suit and had red sweat bands around his wrists and forehead. A towel draped around his neck took care of the rest of the sweat not otherwise covered. He had been outside the Conclave doing some kind of heavy physical activity, which was made even more obvious when he removed his shirt as if to show off his gleaming muscles; he had the body of a swimmer. Every woman (and several of the men) swooned despite being upset with him. When he looked up, however, they all looked away. Only Brazilla saw the big man's shoulders slump as he put his shirt back on. Even his ever effective tricks were becoming ineffectual.

"Excuse me," she said to the crowd before nimbly ducking away and running to Thane's side. She touched his arm to get his attention and could barely contain the shiver that shot down her spine.

"What do you want?" he asked. "What were you telling them?"

"I'm just trying to convince everyone that you're not an arrogant bastard," she said. "It's proving difficult."

"Gee, thanks." He pressed his lips together. "Do they realize that I've shown amazing constitution by not visiting Val's Hall since the first night? I'm even risking my health by not getting drunk every night."

Brazilla slid her hand down his arm and lifted Thane's wrist to look at the BAR.

"Your blood-alcohol ratio seems to be holding out. It hasn't dipped dangerously low, yet."

Thane looked at her. "You almost sound as if you care."

She looked back at him for a moment before pushing his wrist away. "Well, I don't. It must be the Conclave and all of this good will towards men that's hanging about in the air."

"You're growing soft, honey. I can help you out with that." Thane actually managed to waggle his eyebrows. "I'm becoming pretty well versed in the ways of the Force."

"You disgust me."

"Aw, c'mon. You need to learn to appreciate a little bit of well-placed innuendo."

"I do appreciate well-placed innuendo. I _don't_, however, appreciate straight out sexual invitations."

"Who said I would actually go through with it if you said yes? I'd probably be too flabbergasted to get going."

Brazilla laughed a real laugh. "I think you're looking for some kind of validation."

"Hey, I just want people to know I'm relevant, lovely." Thane smiled his killer smile and Brazilla paled slightly. The big former-smuggler figured he was getting his groove back—which proved to cheer him up quite well—when in reality…well, Brazilla's change in complexion really doesn't need much explanation.

After that, Thane's mood was noticeably better. People still didn't treat him like they had when he first arrived in the Conclave, but they no longer turned their back on him, either. Their unexplained sympathy was starting to get annoying, but Thane was not at a lack for company and the children once again cheered him as he ran by. It made Thane feel good.

--

Only a handful of weeks went by before the Masters announced that Thane was ready to enter his trials. Thane, who was under the impression that Jedi training took years upon years of study, was quite reasonably surprised.

"I'm sorry?" he said, addressing the four gathered Masters. "Do mine ears deceive?"

They looked at each other without looking at each other. It was quite a feat to behold.

"We believe you are ready," Adoy said.

"You have proved yourself to us," Czar continued.

"And we need you out on the front lines," Nixon concluded. "Fighting the good fight."

The fourth, unnamed Jedi Master simply nodded. Thane was beginning to suspect the man was a mute.

"Yeah, but I've only been at this for, like, twenty-three days. You sure you trust me with one of your lightswords?"

The Masters grimaced in unison. "Master Czar has repeatedly told you that the lightsaber," Adoy enunciated, "is an extension of your being, not some flimsy thing made of willpower and steel."

"I still think a blaster is more effective. Gimme a blaster any day…"

"The blaster is a clumsy weapon."

Thane rolled his eyes and wondered if there was any originality left in the galaxy.

"I still don't think…"

Czar cut him off. "You must admit that you've made leaps and bounds."

"Well, I suppose…"

"And you have advanced well beyond even our most advanced students," Adoy continued.

"I have always been more talented than most people…"

"And once you return from your trials, Brazilla will accompany you when you leave our Conclave. She will be our eyes and our ears," Nixon said with shifty eyes of his own.

"God dammit," Thane muttered. Brazilla elbowed him. "Ow…!"

The Masters looked down on them from their dais. The room was silent until Brazilla whispered something in Thane's ear. He cleared his throat.

"So what do you want me to do?"

Brazilla's lips pursed.

This time, ominous silence fell.

Finally, the mysterious Master without a name spoke in a deep and booming voice.

"We need you to run an errand for us."

"You're shittin' me. Ow…!" Brazilla elbowed him again, causing Thane to pronounce even the punctuation in his groan.

"But this isn't just any errand," the Task Master went on. "We need you to bring light to a darkened place where anti-light has set in."

"How many Jedi does it take, eh?"

The Task Master lifted his brow and smiled without moving his lips. "The Force will guide you, Thane Sunrider."

--

"The Force will guide me," muttered Thane as he, Garth, and Brazilla left the Conclave. The others opted to remain behind in the _Pigeon_ and play games rather than go on some damn fool expedition for the Jedi Masters. "The Force will guide me. What the hell does that mean?"

He shot a glance at Brazilla, who shrugged. "You'll find out in time."

Thane snorted. "What kind of an answer is that?"

"One that follows my strict no-helping contract with the Masters. Garth isn't allowed to help, either."

"Then why are you two coming with me?"

"To keep you alive. It doesn't count as helping, apparently," said Garth, who looked like he was thinking. "Life is a gift, Thane, so allowing you to stay alive is more of a present we're giving you than it is a helping gesture."

"And the Masters want you alive," Brazilla said.

"I can take care of myself. Watch me."

Thane promptly fell flat on his face as he missed a step. Brazilla grinned as she kneeled next to him, grabbed a handful of his tunic, and flipped him on his back. "Don't need help, hmm?"

"Easy, honey," Thane said. "Not in front of the kid." Brazilla rolled her eyes. Garth didn't seem to notice.

"Up you get. We have to get past the merchants right quick; otherwise we might get trapped for hours only to leave with a few knick-knacks feeling used."

"I don't like being used," Thane said, standing. "Most of the time."

Brazilla ignored him and told Garth the plan of action. Without giving the soldier a chance to argue, Brazilla took off at top speed, the two men at her heels.

As they approached the jungle of mobile shops, the merchants perked up: new blood. They cleared their throats in one intake of air that suffocated several small birds in the area and started to speak at the threshold of pain. Thane put his hands over his ears, his new Jedi training abandoning him in fear of the shopkeepers. He even started to run with his eyes closed, swerving around children and short people in a wild gallop.

Overall, it took no more than a minute to run the gauntlet, even though Garth nearly didn't make it. A banjo salesman had been present and the deals were almost too good to be true. It took both Jedi to drag him away from the stall, their senses screaming out in pain.

"But I need one!" Garth said, struggling.

"That's not the banjo you're looking for," Thane said.

"What?"

"Shut up."

Garth looked about ready to cry until Thane shoved cotton in his ears. Then he just looked indignant.

After that, however, there were no real distractions (except for the shiny objects in the last stall that caught Thane's attention but nothing more) and they only truly allowed themselves to stop once they were out of sight of the shops. All three bent over their knees, gasping for air and basking in the lack of sound. Thane's ears were ringing and his brain was buzzing. By the look on his companion's faces, they were experiencing the same thing, even Garth who was digging the wads of fluff out of his ear canals.

"That has to be the single most terrible thing I have ever experienced," Thane said, straightening. Both Brazilla and Garth gave him blank stares, though the soldier's eyes seemed to be asking him where the hell he had been for the last four years of terror to think _that_ had been terrible. The large smuggler-turned-Jedi furrowed his brow. "Right. Let's get this thing over with. This task has got to be a piece of cake compared to that."

His Jedi senses tingled. Thane wasn't sure if he liked that feeling showing up in the back of his mind. "Something's behind me, isn't it?"

Brazilla and Garth nodded in unison.

"Shit," Thane said, turning around.

It was a probiotic. The large hyena-like brown hound seemed to be studying them, almost as surprised to see them as Thane was angry to see it. The Master's hadn't allowed him to carry a blaster, which meant he would have to deal with this thing with an unfamiliar weapon. He'd show them which one was clumsy…

Drawing his lightsaber and activating it, Thane narrowed his eyes in a way that only he could. The probiotic seemed to regret its decision to approach these tasty morsels but was driven by whatever force drives a hungry creature (probably hunger) and leapt at Thane. The thing was, Thane's new weapon could cut through virtually anything (except his great-aunt's fruit cake, he would later remember) and the probiotic's head quickly found itself moving in a very different direction than its torso.

"Whoa," Thane said in a breath. Maybe they had been right. This thing was pretty damn efficient, not to mention its pleasant green glow and minty fresh scent. A small memory woke up in the back of Thane's mind at the new lightsaber smell and the big man smiled.

But Thane didn't have much time to muse about his new best friend before the dead probiotic's friends showed up. And they looked angry.

"I might need y'alls help after all," he said, staring down the throat of the pup's mother. Damn, she was big. Big enough, in fact, for Thane to ride like a tauntaun.

Ye-_haw_.

* * *

A/N: Well, I've started playing the game again, so hopefully I'll quickly catch up to where I am in the parody so I can actually do a decent job at it… Though, I've also started playing Mass Effect again, so, yeah. The graphics might convince me to spend my time playing the 360 game more.

Oh, and because I'm a fan of giving credit where credit is due: In the previous chapter, I paraphrased the Boosh (the made of sunshine line), used them again for the title of this chapter, and borrowed some Led Zeppelin lyrics from the Immigrant Song ("they come from the land of the ice and snow" etc) for those who are familiar with all that jazz. And in many of these chapters, I paraphrase Star Wars some more. Just covering all my bases here.


	9. Chapter 9: How Many Jedi Does it Take?

Chapter Nine: How Many Jedi Does it Take?

"Thane?"

Someone smacked him on the cheek, which woke him right up.

"Whaddya do that for?" Thane asked, rubbing his cheek and sitting up. He looked up at Brazilla and Garth, squinting against the bright sunlight. "And why the hell am I lying around in the grass? …covered in blood. Yuck"

"Mommy-probiotic bowled you over. That's her over there," Brazilla pointed at the two lengthwise halves of an enormous hound. "I'd say you got the last laugh."

Thane smiled at her. "Y'know, 'Zill, blood really brings out your eyes."

"What? You must've hit your head when you fell."

Thane shook his head and leaned back in the very tall grass. Somebody was badly neglecting their mowing responsibilities.

"Seriously. That smear on your right cheek makes your eyes glow. Unless it's bloodlust. …Or some other kind of lust." He patted the ground next to him.

Brazilla bristled. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

Thane frowned and looked at Garth. "I've always found that to be a very strange answer. Help me up, will you."

Garth did and before he could respond, the big Jedi went on. "So, I guess we've got to keep an eye out for those things. They're nasty."

"Yes they are," Brazilla said. "But shouldn't you be focusing on where you need to go?"

Thane shrugged. "We have to head between those two columns, twiddle our thumbs for a couple of minutes, and then take a left at the maple, which just so happens to be the first tree in the grove where the house full of anti-light is. I've got it covered."

"Apparently so. How?"

"I've got this sort of internal map. It's almost like I've done this exact same thing three or four times before. Strange, hmm?"

"A little, yes," Brazilla said. "But if you know what you're doing, who am I to argue."

"Fair enough. This way," Thane said as he tramped off through the waist high prairie. Brazilla and Garth followed in his grassy wake, silent as per their instructions.

--

As it turned out, Thane's internal map wasn't quite as reliable as he thought it was. The team wandered around in the plains for hours, killing probiotics and really big spiders, solving murders, playing matchmaker and peacemaker, and fixing broken homes. By the time they saw the maple (which was actually the ninth or tenth maple they'd seen so far that day), even the Jedi were exhausted. Garth could barely stand.

"I am very glad," the soldier said while leaning on the maple, "that I am not allowed to help you. This had better be it, Thane."

"It is," Brazilla said. Both men looked at her. "Sorry."

"That's helping me, you know."

"I wasn't helping you," she reasoned. "I was telling Garth that we were here. You just happened to be within earshot."

Thane pointed at her, his jaw slack, before putting his finger away. "Okay. Whatever. I'm not the one who cares. Let's go."

He turned around and started off through the grove. For the most part, it was a pleasant stroll through what turned out to be fruit trees. Springtime had come to Dannon and the air was filled with blossoms, birds and bees, and a sort of undersmell that twanged the nose. Thane and folk quickly grew used to it, as you do, and they walked deeper into the grove, not knowing what waited for them on the other side.

The first hint they got of this anti-light Thane was supposed to do away with was when the fruit trees were replaced with black locust. The trees stood bare of all leaves, their black branches more like skeletal fingers reaching for the sky than anything else. When the wind blew through the grave-like grove, the branches rattled like the bones of the restless and vengeful dead (to continue the simile). The strangest thing that Thane noted was how all bird song stopped the moment they crossed the threshold.

Just to make sure he hadn't gone deaf, Thane took one step back. Birds. One step forward; silence. And what could possibly be the melody of _Obscured by Clouds_, though he couldn't be sure.

"This place is really creepy," Thane said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Garth responded. Brazilla said nothing as she stood just this side of the tree line.

"You all right there, sweetheart?" Thane asked.

"Yeah," Brazilla said. "I'm fine."

Thane wasn't convinced. "You know, if you need your mommy or daddy, I can fill in for one of those. Haunted forests can be a big bad scary thing for a sweet little girl like yourself."

"Get stuffed," Brazilla said. "I've faced worse."

"I wouldn't know." Thane studied her before turning around and continuing on.

"You wouldn't, would you," Brazilla said under her breath, angry. Thane turned to look at her over his shoulder and winked. He hadn't heard what she said, but he somehow knew it was directed at him. Brazilla just sighed and followed several paces behind the men.

--

The little log cabin appeared out of a particularly dense section of the locust grove in a bramble patch of dead blackberry. The party wasn't sure if it had been there the entire time or if they had triggered some cloaking device to turn off, which seemed backwards. After a moment, though, Thane paid it no never mind.

"I'm thinking that that's where I need to be."

It was almost as if there was a big flashing neon sign in the shape of an arrow that read _Taint_. Instead, there was an inexplicable dilapidated wooden sign in the shape of a ghost sticking out of the ground that had the words _boo goes there_ sprawled out in crooked lettering on its chest. Thane considered making some wisecrack about it but chose not to when the right words didn't form themselves in his mind. Probably, he thought, I'll think of something awesome in about two minutes when it's too late.

Some mist rolled across the ground, a little late for full effect.

Thane turned to Brazilla. "Isn't the Force supposed to guide me?"

"It can be finicky sometimes."

"Lovely."

"Yes?"

Thane smiled and gave a slight pump of his arm. "I meant as in 'oh isn't that great', but that's awesome you thought I was addressing you. I love it."

Brazilla frowned as Garth leaned towards Thane. "Do you ever think you might be taking it a little far?" he asked.

"Not really," Thane responded. He rubbed his hands together and glanced back at the cabin. Grass was growing on its roof and what Thane figured were doors were about three feet too short and just as wide. The roof, however, peaked a good six feet above their heads (six and a quarter for Brazilla), so Thane figured this was some forgotten hideaway left behind by Dannon's tall conquerors.

_Obscured by Clouds_ began its eleventh loop, which was convenient considering it was now the eleventh hour. The hair on the back of Thane's neck stood up.

The three of them stood there for several minutes before Brazilla spoke, causing the men to jump.

"Shouldn't you be getting on?"

"On who?"

"On with your task"

"Oh right, that." Thane turned to look at the log cabin.

"Surely the Force is guiding you now."

Thane's lips tightened. "Yeah, it's been giving me a number of good shoves for about a minute. I guess the generator was down before that."

Brazilla frowned and was about to comment on how silly that sounded since the Force was virtually everywhere virtually all the time. Her mind, however, tripped over the word virtually and she kept her mouth shut.

"You know," Garth said, stepping into the conversation. "The faster you get this over with, the faster we can get back to the Conclave."

"That is a very good point. I like the way you think." Thane gave the air in front of him a couple of good punches. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

"Good luck," Garth said to his back.

"There's no such thing as luck," Brazilla told the soldier. "Only the Force."

Thane ignored them. It took every ounce of concentration and then some to approach the small building. Thane (as far as he could remember) never deliberately put himself in harm's way, so it was strange when the familiar flutter of imminent danger that erupted in his belly caused an overload of endorphins to flood his brain rather than the fight or flight reaction he was expecting. Thane told himself he should be running for the hills. Instead, he found that all he wanted to do was walk through that very short door and deal with whatever was behind it.

"Dammit," he muttered. His Jedi training was getting the best of him. Stupid newly ingrained heroics.

As Thane approached the building, he was just able to make out the silhouette of a pair of shapely legs in doeskin boots. Something in the back of Thane's mind perked up. A woman. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Women he could deal with easily.

He couldn't see more than the woman's booted calves until he got close enough to touch the cabin and even then, it was quite dark in there, which made seeing difficult. Rather than ducking inside right away, Thane kneeled just outside the door to assess the situation—which meant checking out the woman.

She was a blonde, waif-like girl who looked as if she could give Brazilla a run for her money in the height department. It didn't take much study to see that she was young—maybe twenty-three—and there was an air about her of pure and crackling energy that something in Thane's mind immediately pinned as Jedi. Of course, her frizzy, banana-curled hair floating in a field of electricity gave off the same effervescent impression. After a long minute (or possibly two short minutes), Thane came to the decision that she reminded him of an angel. He had never seen one, but she was probably the closest the galaxy would see for about 5,000 years.

When she turned to look at Thane over her shoulder, flecks of gold in otherwise violet eyes flashed. Thane expected to be struck down very, very dead where he kneeled any second now…

…?

Instead, she smiled at him. He crinkled his nose at the smell of burning hair and the Force tickled the back of his mind.

"Okay, I hear you," Thane muttered at the Force as he ducked the rest of the way under the low door, managing to hit his head even though he was more than doubled over. As per their instructions, Brazilla and Garth loitered outside and didn't have to attempt the same feat.

As he turned his attention from the young woman to the room, Thane fingered the hilt of his new weapon. It felt strange, just hanging there, but somehow terribly familiar. Little memory bubbles started to burst in his mind that were too random to make any sort of sense. What little Thane saw, though, frightened him.

The woman's voice cut through his thoughts, popping all of the bubbles at once. Thane nearly went momentarily insane.

"Hvem er du?" the woman asked, her accent thick. In fact, it took Thane nearly half a minute to realize she was speaking a different language. She turned around fully in the time it took him to grasp that, lifting her brow and Thane suddenly knew he had finally met his female counterpart. He wasn't sure how he knew, but there it was; knowledge of some sort. "Hvorfor er du her?"

"Erm…" Thane said rather eloquently.

"Er du fra det J_e_-edi Conclave?" She was holding a blackened lightsaber hilt that looked as though it had exploded. Or that something had exploded on it. Hanging from the ceiling were the remains of a bare light bulb. "Jeg er en J_e_-edi også. Jeg har rejst fra kysten til kysten for at finde en skygge i himmelen. Den var her men jeg har besejret den skygge. Jeg er alle ved fordi den skygge er i mig nu. Du skal knæler."

"You have got to be kidding me," Thane said. And then, "I don't understand a word you're saying."

The light that made her eyes glow faded and she shook her head. It was almost as if some entity that had possessed her left in frustration. Thane could still feel some _thing_ in the room, but its location was hard to pinpoint seeing as it was everywhere.

"You are from the Conclave?" she asked again.

Thane took a moment to think, which was coming easier these days. Maybe sobriety wasn't so bad.

Nah.

"Well, that's where I departed from," Thane said slowly, "but I wouldn't say that's where I'm from. If I must be from anywhere, I would say that I am from the stars. Created from stardust. Born out of the enigma that is the void. I'm Thane Sunrider, son of no one."

Thane looked pleased with himself. The waif frowned. The _thing_ oppressed.

"I heard you were from Ferris," she said.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

She shrugged. "I am Erika Leifsson. This is my planet."

"I think you mean that this planet is your home."

"No, I mean what I mean. I'm directly descended from the man who conquered Dannon. The Jedi and the settlers are our guests."

Great, Thane found himself thinking; now I have to deal with a delusional she-Viking. And whatever the hell _that_ is.

"Speaking of the Jedi," Thane said. "I was sort of sent out here to deal with you."

"Deal with me?"

"That's what I said."

She was silent for a moment before going on. "That's strange."

"Oh, I don't know," Thane said with a gesture. "From what I hear, the Masters get off on having other people do their dirty work."

"Not that," Erika said. "I was told to come here as well, for my trials. Indirectly, of course. I traveled for nearly a season to find this place."

"To do away with a taint? Is that was that whole gibberish-nonsense was about?"

"Ja," she said with a nod. The entity swelled when they acknowledged its presence. "I thought I had defeated it, but it instead took up residence in my head."

"Ah, you did sound pretty threatening."

She shrugged. "It comes with being possessed. But you seemed to have frightened it away."

"I think," Thane started in a flash of brilliance, "that because I didn't notice it, it became insecure and went to hide."

"Hvad? Er… What?"

"I think whatever it is thrives on attention."

Erika still looked confused. "How do we defeat it, then? If we fight it, it'll just grow stronger, ja?"

"We have to ignore it." Thane was on the verge of giving himself a pat on the back. "And if I'm right, well, it will simply cease to exist."

"Um…"

"Give me the benefit of the doubt, sweetheart. I'm good. Real good."

"I'm sure you are, but let's save that for a little later on." She lowered her center of gravity, ready to fight. Thane grabbed her by the arm and held on firmly. Each muscle beneath his fingers flexed and released.

"Just turn your back, honey. No need to fight."

A smile spread across her lips and into her eyes. "Later, lover."

"You have got to get your mind out of the gutter, at least until we get out of this pickle," Thane said, taken aback that he was the one saying that. He wasn't a shy man, but he wasn't sure if he had ever met a woman who insinuated in his league. Usually, he dealt with the more subtle wiles of a woman.

Her lids drooped to a smoldering width. "It took up residence there a long time ago with the crocs and the rats. It happens when you surround yourself with teenage boys at an impressionable young age. The Masters hate it, but it's too late to turn back now. Besides, it's fun to make people…" pause "writhe."

Thane looked at her. He wasn't sure if he hated her or had just fallen head-over-heels in love with her. Now, however, was not the time to make that decision and he continued to hold on to her arm as she bent over to fetch a fashionable black jacket with a large, fur-lined hood.

"Okay, ready to go," she said, her voice taking a young and upbeat tone. "So, how many Jedi does it take to change a light bulb?"

Thane's voice broke. "Pardon?"

"How many Jedi does it take to change a light bulb?" she repeated, gesturing towards the remains of the bare light bulb. The _thing_ lay forgotten in the corner and ceased to be.

"I don't know."

"None. That's a task for a Padawan."

"Heh." Thane continued to hold her just above the elbow as they stooped under the low door. "Okay, I've got one: How many Jedi Masters does it take to change a light bulb?"

"You got me."

"None. They would rather meditate on why the bulb went out. Besides, that's a task for a Padawan."

Erika's laugh was like a song and Thane found himself love-hating her even more. They were kindred spirits, of a sort, only he had twelve years on her. It was something like, but not necessarily Beauty and the Beast. Thane put his arm over her shoulder; she didn't fight. Instead, her eyes sparkled as they approached Thane's companions.

"How many Padawans does it take to change a light bulb?" she said, her eyes still on her new buddy even though they were getting quite close to the others.

"Is it done?" Brazilla asked.

Thane waved at her. "Shh… Go on, kid."

Erika looked Brazilla up and down with a critical eye as she told him the punch line. "None, 'cause they're not allowed to do anything on their own."

Thane grinned. Brazilla did not look amused.

"Who's this?" she asked.

The younger woman answered, her voice just as cool. "Erika Leifsson. And you're Brazilla Sham. Don't look so flattered."

"Why should I be flattered you know who I am?"

Erika didn't dignify that with an answer. Thane and Garth looked at each other.

"Anyway…" the big Jedi said as the group started the journey back to the Conclave. "Erika, how many Skywalkers does it take to change a light bulb?"

"None; it's easier to fall to the Dark Side. Everyone knows that one." She nudged Thane in the ribs before putting her arm around his waist. It was almost as if they were newly reunited best friends even though they had never met. Really. She was one of the few people in the Conclave who didn't know much about the heroics of Thane Sunrider. "How many disembodied Jedi ghosts does it take to change a light bulb?"

"You got me."

"All of them, because they're one with the Force."

Only Thane chuckled. They weren't good jokes, but they were better than walking in silence. Brazilla rolled her eyes and sped up to take the lead.

"How many Sith students does it take to change a light bulb?" Thane challenged. "Two; one to do the dirty work and the other to kill him and take the credit"

This one, however, caught Brazilla's attention.

"How many Jedi does it take to change a light bulb?" Erika responded. "As many as are needed to foil the plans of the Dark Side."

Thane parried with: "How many Sith does it take to change a light bulb? Two, because they only come in pairs."

Brazilla frowned. She didn't like the turn these jokes had taken.

"How many Knights does it take to change a lightbulb? Two; one to do it, the other to make sure she doesn't fall," came Erika's block.

Thane lunged: "How many Sith Lords does it take to change a light bulb?"

"How many, lover?" Erika asked, completely wrapped up in Thane.

He lowered his voice and struck the killing blow. "None, because he has an entire galaxy to do that for him."

Erika giggled as her strange eyes caught the shadow of the black locust grove.

Oh my, Brazilla thought.

* * *

A/N: So, I discovered that I have to get into the mind of a male chauvinist in order to write this thing. Not _terribly_ hard considering I (a female) spent the end of high school in the low brass section (all boys) and practically became one of them, but it still takes some work. And, hot damn, these things are flying out of my brain. I don't know what sort of cache I've stumbled onto, but it certainly is a good one.

Oh, and _Obscured by Clouds_ is a Pink Floyd song; my father and I came up with the light bulb jokes during a hike; Flight of the Conchords is paraphrased here and there; and Erika's crazy language is basically correct Danish translated as thus:

"_Hvem er du?Hvorfor er du her?" _(Who are you? Why are you here?)

"_Er du fra det Je-edi Conclave? Jeg er en Je-edi også. Jeg har rejst fra kysten til kysten for at finde en skygge i himmelen. Den var her men jeg har besejret den skygge. Jeg er alle ved fordi den skygge er i mig nu. Du skal knæler. _(Are you from the Jedi Conclave? I am also a Jedi. I have traveled from coast to coast to find a shadow in the sky. It was here, but I have defeated the shadow. I am all knowing because the shadow is in me now. You shall kneel.)


	10. Chapter 10: Deja Cop Out

Chapter Ten: Deja Cop Out, or There's Something About Mary Sue

"Er du n_a-_arcoleptic?" came a voice through his dreams. Thane blinked twice unsuccessfully before waking to Erika's gold-flecked, violet eyes. At this distance (which was very close) he could make out tiny creeks of blue and little lawns of green.

"Mmno," was his half-awake response. He blinked again and rubbed at sleep gunk in the corner of his eye while not immediately wondering why Erika was so close. His nose appreciated it, though; she smelled nice.

As Thane became more aware of where he was, it became increasingly obvious that she wasn't quite as close as he had originally perceived, especially now that she had leaned back into a seated position in the middle of the floor. Before noticing they were back in the _Velour Pigeon_ rather than safely on the ground, Thane took stock of what Erika was wearing and though he wouldn't be able to place (or, indeed, understand) the reference, Erika looked as if she had just stepped out of a 1984 jazzercise class. What completed the outfit of shiny blue spandex shorts, a cut and cropped sweatshirt, and pink leg warmers was the sideways-top-of-the-head pony tail that had her curly blonde hair frizzing in every direction. Her lightsaber hung from a rainbow belt.

She tilted her head to one side. "Hvorfor sover du altid?"

"Basic, rainbow bright. I don't understand gibberish."

"Than why are you always sleeping?" she translated.

"Sobriety is tiring."

By the set of her lips, Erika didn't like that answer. "But you drank down the house at Val's Hall last night in celebration."

Thane furrowed his brow. "What?"

"They had to close early because they ran out of booze."

"Oh. I don't remember." He frowned. "When did we leave Dannon?"

Erika tilted her head to one side. "Two days ago. You've been asleep this entire time. Do you even remember going on that other mission for the Masters?"

"Vaguely." He began to massage his temples, willing away his headache. Any moment now, his hangover would subside and he would be ready to take on almost anything the galaxy threw at him.

After about three minutes, it finally occurred to Thane to ask: "Why are you in my room?"

"I was bored."

"I'm not a source of entertainment."

"I beg to differ." The smile on her face was mischievous. "You put on quite a show in bed. You seemed to be having so much fun, in fact, that I was tempted to join you."

"Er…what?"

"I've got this talent, see, to get into people's heads and sometimes under their skin if I concentrate hard enough. It's a pretty useful way to spy on people."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Very. Borderline Dark Side. The Masters don't appreciate it. So what were you dreaming about? It seemed fascinating, the few scenes I picked up just sitting here."

"I think it was about a land clam nestled in some roots."

"A land clam? I must have been listening in to someone else's dream… What the hell is a land clam?"

"I don't know, but you were there. And it was kind of dark, so it could have been anything. Don't ask me how my brain rationalizes things. It's not logical."

Erika blinked her big eyes. "Apparently not."

They stared at each other and Thane became acutely aware that he wasn't wearing any trousers.

"Is there any other reason you're here? Like, to tell me that we've arrived somewhere?" He gathered his blankets around him. That attracted Erika's attention if anything.

"I think Garth said something about arriving in high orbit around Cash, but I don't really remember. He was blabbering on too much about the sad history of the planet's name. Something about it being named after some famous singer and then it becoming the center of a slave trade ring because of its misleading name, which, as history now shows, became a very accurate name. Cash really does grow in trees." Erika grinned widely. "Men jeg kan huske ikke hvorfor vi er her. Do you know?"

"Gibberish."

"What? Oh. Right. Er…" She rocked back on her haunches as she thought about a translation. "Do you remember why we're here?"

Thane furrowed his brow as he pushed through the fog in his brain, trying to remember what else he had done for the Masters back on Dannon. It had something to do with the dream he had just had…

"I think it's to check out a Map of Stars' Homes." Thane said, remembering. It was nice being able to do that rather than having to rely on someone else to do it for him. Still, he was a little frustrated that he couldn't remember much of anything about the actual experience. It seemed like some sort of cheap trick, though Thane couldn't even begin to guess at what sort of strategy was being employed or by whom. Maybe it was the Dark Side. "I guess you didn't come with Garth, Brazilla, and I when we found that one on Dannon. It was pretty crazy even though it was broken. Ripped and junk. So, the Masters want us to bop around to a few other planets to see if we can't get the whole picture. Garth was disappointed that M4-7Brangelina wasn't shown." Thane looked perfectly impish. "You might want to change, though, if you plan on hitting the ground. Pirates and slavers are attracted to bright things."

She looked at her outfit and then back at Thane. "I got dressed in the dark."

"I never would have guessed."

"Aren't you precious," she said, standing. Putting tell-tale white ear buds in her ears, Erika planted a kiss on Thane's forehead before sashaying out of his cabin. She turned a wink over her shoulder as she crossed the threshold and continued down the hall in a fashion that would make any model jealous. Brazilla scowled as she walked past.

--

The _Velour Pigeon_ made a great show of its sickly nature as Garth wrestled it to the landing platform. Coolant crashed across the durasteel in a great tidal wave of vapor, freezing one pirate, two slavers, and about three-one-thousandths of a Cash tree. Gizmo strained her neck looking at the ridiculously tall trees, which meant she would have to stay behind for another mission.

"I'm really getting sick of this…ship," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "I want to get off and get some fresh air."

Thane looked at her. "I'm sorry, but I don't have much use for you. Maybe if I run into some particularly stubborn doors I'll give you a call, but, honestly, everyone else is better in a fight than you are."

Thane looked around the room. Everyone nodded, including Canute "the Brute" Olav who, having been forgotten on Ferris, met up with them on Dannon. Thane couldn't remember how they knew him or why he was tagging along.

"Sorry, kid."

"I'm not a frackin' kid," she muttered.

But nobody heard her. They moved on to discussing grownup things, such as who really didn't want to go into the Undergrowth. Thane was the second (behind Erika) to raise his hand, but smiled and laughed when everyone else glowered at him.

"Just kidding, guys," he said. He really wasn't. It wasn't that Thane Sunrider, Alcohol Consumer of Lore, Conqueror of Virginity, and Jedi Knight, was afraid of the dark as much as he didn't feel up to trudging around in dirty up to his unmentionables. He'd much rather have gone to Taboo or Can'nonbea'ch first. A bit of sand on one, a bit of surf on the other. Dancers, cowgirls, beach bunnies, and surfer girls. Either one would have been much more enjoyable than stinky, sticky mud and monkeys in Thane's opinion.

"We should really be getting on," Brazilla said. Thane chose not to slide in a snide comment.

"And I suppose I can only pick two of you to come with me, hmm?" Thane said, scratching his roguish stubble. He looked his companions up and down. "I think I might have to go with the ladies. Sorry Garth, but I really don't feel like having a reprise of 'Friends in Low Places' today. Back on Ferris was enough."

The other man looked hurt.

"Sorry, buddy. Are we ready to go ladies?" he said, turning his attention to Brazilla and Erika, who had changed into a less bright, more Jediesque outfit of closefitting soft leather and hard-soled boots. The hood of her fashionable jacket cast her face in shadow, a bright pink gum bubble appearing from time to time. Her fingernails were painted neon green; her silver belt buckle a large skull. Thick army green legwarmers over black argyle socks peaked out from the tops of her boots. If asked, Thane would classify her as ultra-cool. Brazilla thought she was overdressed.

"I'm ready whenever you are, big shot," Erika said, pushing off the fur-lined hood and revealing a droopy knit hat that barely contained her curls. "Just say go."

Thane just stood there for a moment, wondering at his good fortune to have two female models/ Jedi in his midst. Sporty Brazilla and high fashion Erika; how could he have gotten so lucky? Apparently, somebody up there had taken a fancy to him.

He tilted his brow and smiled the proverbial lop-sided grin of scoundrels everywhere. "Go."

"Giddy-up," Erika said.

Brazilla rolled her eyes.

--

Saying the three Jedi were inconspicuous would be like saying dingo dogs didn't eat babies. A lie. Or maybe a half truth. Whatever. It wasn't their height (the Wookies had them there) nor was it the fact they wore weapons (the slavers each had more than the Jedi did combined); it was mostly because of Erika, who stood out like Satan in a confessional. She was happy, like a little bubble filled with joy. Slavers, as a rule, were not very upbeat.

"Look at these trees!" she said, holding her arms out. "They're amazing! Dannon's trees are just younglings compared to these. Have you ever seen anything like these, Thane?"

Thane smiled at her as she tugged on his arm. "I think I have, though I don't know where."

"It must have been here," Brazilla found herself saying, "because they don't grow anywhere else."

The other two Jedi looked back at her and Thane said, "Maybe you're right. I've probably brought arms here, what with Wookies pulling them off all the time. There's no other reason I can think of."

Brazilla nodded. "You're probably right."

But Erika had another idea. "Or maybe, baby, you're secretly Darth Relevant and you've been here before looking for the Map with your pasty apprentice Talck."

Thane gave her a hard look that triggered something in the back of Erika's mind, making her wonder if she had gone a little far. But when he started laughing—much like he had laughed when Brazilla revealed his Force prowess—Erika laughed as well. Brazilla tried, though it was rather forced, and when she caught the younger woman's eye, she saw that Erika seemed nervous, as if she was slowly making sense of things. But the moment quickly passed and Erika's strange eyes cleared of doubt.

"You'd think," Erika started, "that our current baddies would choose more intimidating names. Or at least more creative ones. Relevant sounds like he was looking for validation and Talck, well, I'm thinking that he just looked in the mirror one day and said _bingo_." She chuckled and ignored the slavers mixed looks of ill-placed lust, calculation, and fear that if they actually tried anything, they wouldn't technically be men much longer. They weren't dumb; they knew exactly what the piece hanging from her belt was. She popped a gum bubble and ignored them. "Maybe one of them should have just cut to the chase and called himself Whoopass. Just as creative and not at all subtle."

"I think he would have been laughed back to the Light Side," Thane said, grinning.

"But couldn't you imagine?" She hunched up her shoulders and narrowed her eyes to prepare for the impersonation. "I'm Darth Whoopass and I'm about to open a can on you. Prepare to die."

Thane grinned even wider. "And what, Erika, would his apprentice be named?"

"Robin? I don't know. Are apprentices really anything more than just Jedi sidekicks? All I ever did was point out the obvious before my Master showboated and saved the day." She shrugged before pointing at the wooden platform ahead of them. "Holy rotten wood, Thane!"

"Excuse me?"

They had passed through the part of the spaceport where sensible people remained and into the wilds where very few dared to go. The spaceport kept good care of their wooden platforms and the Wookies maintained theirs, but in this no man's land between encampments, the wood was rarely treated with the correct weatherproofing, which resulted in, "Holey rotten wood. See? We had better be careful if we don't want to… _Shite…_!"

And, having not quite followed the advice she was in the middle of giving, Erika took a misstep and disappeared in an Erika-sized hole in the holey rotten wood. Thane kneeled next to the hole and peered through, waving at Erika who was just climbing onto a large branch some twenty feet below them. She gestured rudely back.

"You all right there, Robin?"

"Come down here and I'll show you how all right I am." She was straddling the branch, her arms crossed over her breasts. Several leaves and a small branch were sticking out of her hair and it appeared as if she had swallowed her gum in the excitement of falling.

Thane and Brazilla looked at each other.

"We might as well go down here, I suppose. It's not that off target," Thane said.

"There's an elevator not too far away, you know."

"Pssh," Thane dismissed. "We don't need an elevator. This'll be more fun."

Brazilla rolled her eyes but didn't argue the matter. She did, however, mutter, "Men."

"Pardon?" asked Thane.

"Nothing. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised that you're just going to poke around in the dark down there."

"I'm not poking around. I know where I'm going."

Erika cleared her throat. "Are you coming down or do I need to climb up?"

"No," Thane said, still looking at Brazilla. "We're going down."

Brazilla didn't look happy, but didn't say a word when Thane pulled out his lightsaber and started to cut a larger hole around the one Erika had inadvertently taken.

"Watch out below, honey," he said down to the fashionable she-Viking. "Ready or not here I come."

Thane hardly waited to deactivate his weapon before plugging his nose, waggling his fingers at Brazilla, and leaping into the opening he had created. Erika whooped as he plunged by and leapt off the branch she was sitting on. They bounded down to the planet's surface, leaping from branch to branch, chasing each other and racing each other until they landed in a laughing heap in a pile of leaves. They continued to lie there, telling more Jedi light bulb jokes, Erika's head on Thane's enviably toned stomach, as they watched Brazilla descend with more care than any pregnant woman had ever tackled a flight of stairs.

And because the Jedi were each distracted in his or her own way, none of them noticed the Force ripple as a small legion of monstrously large spiders marched in their direction, nor did they notice the grumpy old man whose misfortune it was to be named Jolie Pitt watch them from on high, suspicious they might be more paparazzi coming to bother him.

Which, of course, they would. Bother him, that is. Just as soon as they dealt with the spiders.

* * *

A/N: So, I think Erika's theme song would be "Woman Like a Man" by Damien Rice if it had to be anything, whereas Thane's might be "Something Special for the Ladies" by Flight of the Conchords. Or maybe "She's So Hot…Boom!" also by FOTC (_Oh my God, she's so hot. She's so fucking hot she's like a curry. I've got to tell her how hot she is. But if I tell her how hot she is she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist. Bitch… Who's the boom king?_).


	11. Chapter 11: Cowboy, Change Your Ways

Chapter Eleven: Cowboy, Change Your Ways Today

Thane groaned as he woke up.

"One of these days," he vowed to the women who were kneeling over him. "One of these days I will remain conscious at the end of a fight."

"You remember this time?" Brazilla looked surprised. She felt surprised as well.

"Sort of. It's mostly you two being splattered with black blood and the fact that we are surrounded by slowly disappearing spider carcasses." He rubbed his forehead, which was sticky with the same black blood, and frowned. "I've heard rumors about Cash reclaiming its dead, but I never thought it happened this fast. Very strange."

The women looked at each other before standing. Erika, who had shed her jacket, went to retrieve it as Brazilla helped the big man stand.

He wiped his hands on his pants, leaving bloody handprints behind. "And if either of you two happens to see any ghost riders in the sky, give me a holler. That's supposed to be real bad."

Erika looked at him. "Men vi kan ikke se himmelen. It's all sort of obscured by clouds, not to mention trees."

"I'm just sayin', honey. If you hear that mournful cry…well, just you tell me. I don't feel like spending eternity chasing the devil's herd across lonely skies."

Erika looked at Brazilla and then back at Thane. "What're you on about?"

The big man shrugged and scratched at a spider bite on his arm before reaching into his perfectly organized bottomless pouch of endlessness and pulled out universal anti-venom that he immediately injected into his thigh. After a moment, he sighed.

"Okay, I feel better now."

Erika pulled her hood over her head and put on a pair of backless leather gloves. "You were looking a bit green there, cowboy." With her face in shadow and one thumb hooked in her belt, Erika suddenly looked menacing. The dissipated dark energy of the forest started to swirl around her and Thane found himself inexplicably drawn to the Viking woman. It was almost as if something was calling him home.

Brazilla watched his interest in the other woman grow—dangerously unaware of the dark energy Thane was drawn to—and discovered that deep down she was jealous of the attention Erika had been receiving since Dannon. Afraid the object of her heart had found someone else to lust after—be it true lust or not—Brazilla buried her jealousy and fear deep inside where even she could barely feel it. Those were emotions of the Dark Side and not for those who fought in the Light.

Swallowing, Brazilla watched Erika lift her arm and point deeper into the forest where there was only shadow, trees, and more than likely a whole lot of spiders.

"Vi skal gå på skyggeslanden, tror jeg," she said. "We need to go that way."

Not questioning her translation (which, if they had only known, wasn't even similar to what she had said in 'gibberish') Thane and Brazilla followed the youngest member of the party deeper into the Undergrowth. And though she hadn't been there when they had actually seen the Map on Dannon, she had suggested where they go to look and Brazilla was starting to wonder if she had some sort of connection with the thing. It was, of course, the only logical explanation since she was completely lost and that never (okay, occasionally) happened.

It was Thane, however, who had the sense to ask Erika where she was leading them.

"To the Map, of course. I'm just as curious about M4-7Brangelina as Garth is."

"But how do you know it's this way? I mean, I know about where we're going 'cause I've got this internal map thing but what do you have?"

Erika looked at him; the darkness that had surrounded her was now gone and in its place was the same bubbly girl that had been with them on the ship. She shrugged. "I just know."

"But how?" this time asked by Brazilla. She was beginning to distrust the girl, but had no good reason outside of jealousy.

"I have this uncanny sense of direction. A Force gift, I guess; I can't explain it."

"You'll need a better explanation than that," Brazilla said, not letting it go.

"I just know," Erika said again. "Though, the carving of a land clam with an arrow underneath it back at the battle grounds helped me focus my knowingness."

Thane chuckled and Erika gave him a brilliant smile. Brazilla frowned at the two of them and their little inside joke. It probably isn't even that funny, she thought.

"Why didn't you mention it? It could be a trap, you know."

Erika shook her head. "That's something else I'm good at, figuring out traps. The Force just sort of speaks to me; the Masters say I'm special. More special, in fact, than most other people. And by special I mean talented, not…special." She furrowed her brow. "Besides, had I mentioned it, I wouldn't have seemed mysterious and all knowing when I pointed in the direction we're currently traveling. It's something I've been working on."

"I think you've got it down," said Thane.

"Why thank you. I've spent more hours than I would like to admit working on it."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Ja, I always thought so."

Brazilla cleared her throat and Erika looked back at her, saying, "We really are going in the right direction. And if you don't believe me, we can stop at the house on the other side of this ridge and ask whoever lives there if we're going the right way."

The other woman cocked a brow. "I'm not going to ask."

"Oh, this time it's not mysterious." Erika pointed at a steady rise of smoke. "I would guess a wood burning stove or inglenook. And that comes from my Viking heritage, not my Jedi training. We just sort of instinctively know what we might be dealing with by the shape, colour, and quantity of smoke. It comes in handy when planning a raid…"

Brazilla shook her head. The more time she spent with this girl, the more convinced she was that Erika was toeing the line of insanity. Maybe she and Thane would be happy together in their little chaotic life, so long as they didn't breed a crew of insane Sith-Viking babies. There would be no stopping them then.

Suddenly aware that both Thane and Erika were staring at her, Brazilla scowled and started up the side of the ridge. They exchanged glances behind the woman's back before following.

--

It took about fifteen minutes to climb the ridge, sixteen seconds to realize there was a cliff on the other side, and seventeen more minutes to decide how to proceed. Getting back on level ground wasn't the issue here—they were three highly trained Jedi Knights, after all, who had recently descended two-hundred feet to the forest floor, so eighteen feet of sheer rock was nothing to break a sweat over. What they couldn't agree on, however, was how to go about asking for directions. Erika and Thane figured that going up to the door, knocking, and politely asking which way they should go was a good plan. Brazilla wasn't so sure.

"Considering this person lives on the forest floor where no one else lives could very well be testament to them not wanting to be bothered. Ever."

Thane shrugged. "I guess, but it's not like we're going up to his door dressed as wolves and asking to take a quick nap in his bed and a bite to eat."

"What? That's ludicrous."

"Which is exactly why we're not doing it," Thane pointed out.

"Riding hoods are friendly," Erika said. "Especially red ones."

Thane pointed at her next. "I like it. Only problem: I forgot my little red riding hood back on the _Pigeon_."

"This is ridiculous," Brazilla said.

Erika and Thane regarded her, the former saying, "You're ridiculous. Honestly. How else are we going to ask him for directions?"

"Have you considered that he might be a murderous madman?"

"He could be," came a forth voice from behind them. The Jedi jumped right out of their respective skins and back into them before turning around. The man in black was almost the same colour as the shadow he was in, except for his hair, which was a shock of white. "But he's not."

"Er…" Erika.

"Um…" Thane.

"How would you know that?" Brazilla. The sensible one.

The man shrugged. "Because I'm him. Haven't ever really murdered anyone."

"That's a big qualifier you're using there, sir," Thane said.

"Killing Mandies after a long drawn-out battle don't count as murdering, far as I see it," he said.

The three Jedi looked at each other.

"So what are you younglings doing in my neck of the woods? You wouldn't be looking for the Map of Star's Homes, now would you? Or have you already found it and think you got lucky here on this planet having found a couple of particularly shiny stars? 'Cause I ain't them."

"You were right, 'Zilla," Thane whispered. "He is insane."

"Not insane, boy, angry and bothered. But your pieces tell me you're one of my own, unless paparazzi have started carrying around lightsabers." He didn't offer a hand. "Jolie Pitt. Mine before theirs."

Erika looked him up and down. Despite the white hair and wrinkles, he didn't stand like an old man. His hands were sinewy and his fingers were strong, signs, apparently, of great strength that age should have taken away. "Oh, you're _that_ Jedi."

"What'd you say, girl? Are they already talking about me in history lessons?"

"You're the one who fell in love with a Queen years older than you and then secretly married her even though it's forbidden for us to do so, aren't you."

"My wife was a smuggler."

"Oh," Erika said. "That other guy must have been from premonition lessons…"

The others looked at her. She looked back and put another piece of gum in her mouth before shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. "They probably talked about you, but I didn't pay much attention to the moral lessons they tried to teach us, especially when they were sneaky about it."

Jolie seemed pleased. "I'm a moral lesson, eh? I figured the moment I renounced my Knighthood they would turn me into some pied piper who would lead all the kiddies away from the Temples to a life of sin and wedded bliss." He snorted and then looked around. "Let's relocate to my kitchen. There's a crazy Wookie in these parts I can't seem to shake. I gave him food once and now he thinks I'm both his best friend and his meal ticket. I even picked up my entire house a few months back and moved to a different part of the forest, but he managed to find me. Damn dogs…"

Jolie grumbled the entire jump down to his house, through his front hall, living/dining room and into a kitchen that was more like an inglenook where a teapot was whistling angrily at him. "Dark side fiend," he muttered at the offending object as he moved it off the fire.

Thane looked around. "I was imagining that you lived under a log, for some reason."

"There's a log up over the roof," the old man said, pouring out tea for himself and no one else. "But I don't think that's what you were thinking of."

"No, not exactly," Thane said.

That uncomfortable silence of sitting in a new girlfriend's house with her parents fell over the company until Jolie said, "So, you young whipper-snappers were going to ask me about something having to do with the location of the Map?"

"Yeah," Erika said, sitting back in a deep couch, her hands still in her jacket pockets. She crossed her skinny legs and gave her gum a couple of good chews. "Where is it?"

Jolie lifted his brow. "Very succinct."

Erika lifted her shoulders. "I can be. So do you know?"

"You were headed straight for it until you detoured into my house."

Erika pointed at Brazilla in a very un-Jedi like manner. "Ha! What'd I tell you? I was right and you were wrong."

Quite frankly, both Brazilla and Thane expected Erika to get up and do a victory dance, but her Jedi training restrained her from doing so. The girl ran her mouth like no other properly trained Jedi would, but she was well trained enough to not make such a lewd display of herself, most of the time. Thane had seen it happen once back on the _Pigeon_ and was disappointed when she held herself back. He did, however, catch a wink sent across the room to him. Jolie, having witnessed the exchange, muttered something about bed-hopping youngsters and how no one has any respect for the elderly by bringing it up right here in his living room. No respect. Bah.

After the awkward silence persisted for another minute, Thane cleared his throat and stood up. "We should probably get going. Places to go, maps to see. Thanks for inviting us in and for confirming what Erika already knew."

Jolie frowned. "My pleasure, but, if you wouldn't mind…"

Thane nodded, though it came reluctantly. "As soon as we find the Map we'll swing by and pick you up. It'll be nice having another Jedi around. Someone to keep Erika in line. I'm sure you have some old war stories to lull her to sleep with. She's a firecracker, that one."

"But that's what I've got you for, lover," Erika said, not keeping in mind their company. Or, rather, that they were currently company. Jolie _bah'd_ and gave her a dismissive wave.

"Youth," he grumbled. Brazilla was positively fuming, though not kindly so. Erika didn't seem to care as she stood up, thanked Jolie and started to walk out of the cabin. Thane followed after her and Brazilla took a little longer, apologizing.

"Y'all probably shouldn't leave," Jolie said, waiting until the very last minute to say so. Erika and Thane were, in fact, already on the far side of the door. Only Thane turned around.

"Why not?"

"Night's coming."

"I'm not afraid of the dark," Thane said even as he crossed back into Jolie's house.

"Me neither," Erika said, following. "I even watched the show when the Masters said I shouldn't. Only the clowns frightened me."

"You too?" Thane asked. Erika nodded, her eyes wide with fear even now, and highed Thane's proffered five to show camaraderie on the fact. That turned into a handshake, then a fist bump, and finished with Thane tweaking Erika's chin. The girl tilted her head into it, smiling the whole time. Brazilla rolled her eyes and joined in Jolie's complaint about youth even though she was barely two years Erika's elder and a decade Thane's junior. Jolie gave her a withering sidelong glance.

"Anyway," Thane said, his arm draped over Erika's shoulders, "what were you saying about not going outside?"

"I mentioned the mad Wookie?" The other's nodded. "In that case, the big spiders show up at dusk, the quicksand finds its way underfoot, and there is no way to see that won't attract attention."

"We're young. And Jedi," Erika said. "We can handle ourselves."

Jolie frowned. "Just don't come crawling back to me when you're dead. Oh wait."

The three young Jedi looked at each other and then at Jolie. No words were exchanged between them, only a couple of shrugs. It was Thane who spoke for the group.

"So what kind of accommodations do you have?"

* * *

A/N: "Ghost Riders in the Sky" was written by Stan Jones (I know the Johnny Cash version best, though, hence the reference); Pink Floyd's "Obscured by Clouds" shows up again; and there is a bunch of fairytale public domain stuff.

Oh, and in case you're curious, "ja" is pronounced "ya". Just think of a stereotypical Swede and you're about there. The languages (Danish, which is used here, and Swedish) are fairly similar.


	12. Chapter 12: They're Making it Through

A/N: Translations will now be provided at the bottom of the chapter thanks to a suggestion by Davin (thanks, dude).

--

Chapter Twelve: They're Making it Through the Wilderness

Thane woke the next morning with cold feet and a stiff back. Packed dirt was not a terribly comfortable mattress; a fact Thane discovered within five minutes of ending up on the floor. Before dinner, he had claimed a large cushy chair and ottoman, figuring he was entitled to some comfort being the hero and all. Besides, he had reasoned, that left the large couch that could have easily fit both women, despite their height. He hadn't considered, of course, that the women weren't terribly fond of each other and would only consider sharing the couch if it meant the other one died some terrible death for sleeping somewhere else. They were Jedi, after all; life preservers. Death over a couch was not acceptable.

Of course, no one's life was at stake here and the women decided that claim jumping was not outside the restrictions of a Jedi. No one said they had to play fair, after all. So, when Thane had returned from answering nature at the risk of having his arms ripped off by some crazy Wookie, Erika was sleeping in his chair and Brazilla claimed the couch forcing Thane to curl up on the floor under a sheet (both women had also claimed the only two quilts Jolie gave them all to share).

He frowned at the ceiling and shivered. This was not what he signed on for when he agreed to save the galaxy from certain doom. Sith he could handle no problem. Sobriety he could deal with (though, his BAR was currently beeping, warning him that he had fallen dangerously below the legal limit; he didn't feel it, though). Waking up sore and cold he could not. Thane made a mental note of it as he sat up.

Behind him, Erika had thrown off her blanket during the night and was laying every which way, her mouth hanging open and her little white earbuds still in her ears pumping music. She was also only half on the furniture, her arched back the bridge between her hips, which were on the ottoman, and her shoulders, which were pressed firmly against the floor. At some point during the night, her knit hat had fallen off, letting loose on the world her mass of curls. It was almost frightening.

Brazilla, on the other hand, looked as if she hadn't moved. At all. Her hair was perfect, her make-up was perfect… Thane sighed. She was perfect. That was a sight he wouldn't mind waking up to every morning, though preferably she would be a little roughed up and he wouldn't be sore, at least not from sleeping on a damn floor. He wouldn't let them forget this. In fact, he decided to serve some piping hot retribution for breakfast.

Standing with an exaggerated groan, Thane clapped his hands together and began to sing a song he had picked up from some kids at the Conclave.

"Way up in the trees some big slugs eat leaves, while down on the ground, some little slugs crawl around…"

Erika snorted and fell off the ottoman, her legs going right over her head. She ended up in a position any yogi would have been proud of, staring in surprise at her belly button. Brazilla simply opened her eyes, though quickly and not without a little anger.

Thane went on, "With some slime on the left and some slime on the right, the little slugs sleep all through the night. _Shut up_, they're sleeping."

"Umph, we're up. Jeg sover ikke nu," Erika said, trying to untwist her body. Thane grinned at her and didn't stop.

"The bright sun comes up, the salt pours on them. _Hasta la vista_, the little slugs say."

"You're a right bastard." Erika was sitting on the floor and stuffing her hair into the knit cap, the curls that had escaped the wrath of frizz framing her face. "Hvad did you do that for?"

"Revenge, little thief."

"Revenge is Dark Side stuff," Erika said, standing. "Du skal spiller ikke med det. You shouldn't mess with it."

Thane regarded her, not used to hearing her spout Jedi philosophy. That was Brazilla's job. "It's all in good fun," he said.

Brazilla stepped in. "Anything that leads you down the path of the Dark Side shouldn't be good fun, Thane. It's a very serious matter."

"Lust is Dark Side-y," he said.

"Yes," she seemed to hesitate, especially when Thane grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Lust for power."

"That sounds like a justification," Erika said, regarding her elders. "Which can also lead to the Dark Side."

"Is there anything that doesn't lead to the Dark Side?" Thane asked.

Erika shrugged. "Kittens?"

"But only if you don't get possessive over them," Thane said. "And it's real easy to fall for those furry little fuzzballs and not give other people the chance to play with them. So, according to the reverend," in reference to Brazilla, "kittens lead to the Dark Side."

Brazilla threw her hands up in frustration. "Why do I even bother," she muttered, standing. She and Thane were very close.

"Because you want us to always look on the Light Side of life," Thane replied.

Brazilla gave him a hard stare but couldn't argue with his logic. The Jedi-turned-Sith Lord-turned-smuggler-turned-Jedi flashed her one of his brilliant smiles and he could practically see her knees go weak. Erika just shook her head and left for the kitchen, allowing Thane and Brazilla a silent, private moment to themselves during which they just looked at each other, their pinkies brushing, their breathing shallow. Thane searched the depths of Brazilla's hazel eyes just as she searched his baby blues and when Erika returned, neither Jedi noticed her until she cleared her throat so harshly she practically coughed up a lung.

Thane looked around the side of Brazilla's head at the young woman. Erika frowned slightly.

"If you two are done, we should probably head out. I've left Jolie a note on the counter." She was wearing her jacket, her hands shoved in the pockets. "I also grabbed some weird looking fruit in case either of you get hungry again."

Brazilla blushed, though only Thane could see it, and turned to leave Jolie's little house far ahead of the other two. Erika lifted her brow as she watched her go. "What's her dealio?"

Thane lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Don't ask me. I don't get her."

Erika's frown turned into a mischievous grin. "I think she wants you to hold her and touch her."

"What?"

"She didn't know how lost she was, until she found you."

Thane looked at her. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Not in the least, lover boy," she said, hooking an arm through his. "But if we don't get on after her, she might just make it through the wilderness without you."

"Yeah, to the Map."

Erika sighed and shook her head. "I think the Force has something a little bigger planned for your little Jedi princess, Thane. We Jedi just know these things. Don't worry. You'll catch on again one day."

"Again?"

"…Right. Never mind. Let's go."

Thane gave his girl a funny look as she led him back into the forest in pursuit of his lady love and the Map.

--

It took Thane and Erika nearly thirty minutes to catch Brazilla up, at which point Thane told a terrible joke not worth repeating. Erika giggled if only to placate Thane's ego and Brazilla shook her head. Draping an arm over Erika's shoulders and whispering something in her ear, Thane simply made her giggle more, his eyes locked with Brazilla's through it all.

The show, however, just made Brazilla frown deeper and Thane was pretty quick on the pick up. Straightening, though leaving his arm where it was, he put his other hand on his waist and said, "It's close."

"So are they," Erika said, pointing in the opposite direction and towards a crashing sound. She ducked out from under Thane's arm and drew her lightsaber. It cast the roots and trees in a violet glow as she charged off through the underbrush, quickly followed by Brazilla and her double-blades of yellow. Thane held back for only a moment before taking his lightsaber from where it was strapped to his leg and activating it, the blade glowing a deep red. Unlike the women, though, he didn't have to go running through the thorny plants surrounding them since the spiders came to him.

With little experience and no memory about any of his previous battles, Thane was understandably nervous. He had sliced off a probiotic's head, but that's about all he could remember. Fortunately, Thane had all that unconscious experience to draw on and his body started to react without him thinking.

Leaping over the first spider, Thane landed on the back of the second and impaled the creature before it completed its fall under his weight. Spinning back to the first, Thane ducked under the spider's great claws and lunged, his blade sliding neatly between its mandibles, killing it dead in an instant. That move, unfortunately, ruptured the creature's venom sack and the thick green goo splattered across Thane's chest. As it started to burn first through his shirt and then through his skin, he reached into his pouch of endlessness and removed some more anti-venom, batting away another claw with his forearm. It scratched through his skin, but with the medicine coursing its way through his veins it just hurt like the devil rather than the causing him further venomous harm.

Grabbing the clawed arm that had scratched him, Thane held it tight as the spider reared on its hind four legs, its mandibles snapping. Thane wrinkled his nose at the smell before slicing through the arm he was holding. The spider screamed and leaped at the big man, but Thane was faster and dove out of the spider's way. He spun mid-air and threw his lightsaber, coming to a scraping halt in the leaves as the creature fell in two. The blade immediately retracted and the forest fell dark once more except for the distant glow of the women's lightsabers. Reaching out for the hilt, it spun back into his fingers, reactivating the moment it touched his palm and revealing the two spiders that had replaced the fallen. Thane snarled and leapt to his feet.

The smaller of the two spiders charged at him and Thane danced out of the way, cutting through the spider's head as it went by. The creature crashed into the ground and left a slimy trail in its wake. But Thane didn't pay attention to its death; the other spider had started running at him the moment his lightsaber touched its companion's exoskeleton. It was the largest by far, probably the matriarch, and had a good two or three feet on Thane, its eyes like a dozen black dinner plates. The big ones.

But rather than standing around and waiting for her to come and get him, Thane took the initiative to run her down, too. The sensible part of his brain started to scream profanities at him, as well as telling him that he was about to die a terrible death but, as per usual, Thane ignored it as he switched off his lightsaber and tucked one leg under the other to slide beneath the large spider. She slowed, possibly confused about her prey suddenly disappearing, which gave Thane the chance to press the hilt of his weapon against her soft underbelly and thumb the blade on. The spider screeched something terrible as Thane cut down her abdomen, dousing himself in her black blood. He choked on its smell and barely had the sense to roll out from under the dying creature as she collapsed. Standing, Thane wiped the blood out of his eyes as Erika and Brazilla walked out of the thorny bushes from where they had been fighting their own contingent of monsters.

"That's really gross," was the first thing Erika said after looking at Thane. "You should change."

Thane frowned. "Good thing I always have an extra set of robes or three."

"Or ten?" Erika said.

Thane shrugged and went to put on a clean outfit. When he returned, he was in black and grey robes rather than brown like before. "They're more slimming," he said under Brazilla's criticizing gaze. She didn't say anything. "And I blend in. Think of it as camo."

"I didn't say a word," she said.

"But you were thinking plenty."

Erika looked at them and gestured with both hands towards the Map. "I think we should go check that thing out and then get the hell out of here. I don't know about you two, but killing spiders and smelling something worse than raw sewage is not my idea of a fun time." She started backing that way, gesturing with each step. "Come on, adults, let's go. Thadda way. Thane, get yourself out of her eyes. Brazilla, you too. You'll have plenty of time for that in hyperspace."

Neither of them heard her and when that became clear, Erika dropped her arms and turned around, grumbling the entire way to the Map. When she got there—alone—she paused and looked at the thing in surprise. It really was a giant land clam nestled in roots. Granted, it was made of some kind of a dark metal and blended in very well with the surroundings, but that didn't take away from what it was. Approaching it cautiously, she knocked on the shell and put her face very close to the thing, trying the read the inscriptions in the dark. It wasn't working, mostly because it wasn't writing.

Without knowing why, Erika then removed a glove and laid her hand on the cold metal. It immediately came to life, its great clam shell mouth slowly opening. Holograms of the stars started to swirl in its depths moving too fast for Erika to register who was who or what was what. When it finally clicked into place, though, the image of a naked woman with long, golden hair appeared in the middle, covering herself where it mattered and looking down at Erika.

"I do not recognize you," she said. "You are not the one who came before."

"Uh…no, no I wasn't," she said, looking for a control panel of some sort. There wasn't one. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, I believe it does," the woman said.

Erika frowned. "You _believe_ it does? Well if you don't know, then who does? Can I say who does?"

"The one who made me decides who can access my treasure."

"I'm sure he does," Erika said under her breath. She put her hands on her hips. "Who is this guy?"

The hologram looked at her. "One who resides in Asgard."

"No shit."

The hologram remained silent.

"You can't be serious."

"Who can't be serious?" Thane asked as he and Brazilla came strolling into the clearing.

"The woman on the half shell." Erika pointed.

"Oh my," Brazilla said. "She wasn't in the other one."

"Lucky you," Erika replied, turning back to the hologram, "because she isn't letting us in without the 'one who came before'. Jeg hader tinger lide det."

"I am not a thing," the hologram said. Erika rolled her eyes as Thane walked up.

"She understood you." He seemed impressed.

"Her maker was one my gods." She did not.

"Oh… Damn."

"You know, I sure hope this doesn't mean I have to meet mine."

The hologram was studying Thane, a gentle smile on her artificial lips. "You are different," she said.

"I prefer special," Thane said, looking the hologram up and down. "Like you."

Erika and Brazilla just stared in disbelief. He couldn't possibly be hitting on the fake woman. That was taking it a little far, even if it was Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, doing it.

The hologram shook her head. "I mean you have changed since the last time you were here."

"I'm a Jedi now," Thane said, puffing out his chest. "A hero."

Erika looked at him. "When were you here? I can believe up there, but you've got to admit that this is a little obscure." She gestured at their surroundings. "Unless you really are Relevant."

"Nope. Not him. I think I would know."

Erika just regarded him.

If either of them had been paying any attention to Brazilla at this point in time, they would have seen the fear in her eyes. It was the same look she got any time anybody made any reference to Thane being in any way the Sith Lord. However, considering they were wrapped up in their own little world, as they usually were when conversing (which was most of the time; the two were practically attached at the hip), Brazilla's expression went unnoticed, which was a shame, because today's was good. It was the perfect mixture of horror and dread that would have given away the big reveal about a month too soon.

Thane shrugged, still ignoring Brazilla. "I probably brought some lucky lady down here when I came through with my arms, otherwise I don't know why I would be here. Not my kind of a place, I'll tell you what."

"Jo, det er ikke."

The hologram seemed to be watching them. "What would you like to know, Thane Sunrider."

"Er…"

"Ask for what Relevant was looking for," Erika suggested. Thane nodded.

"Do what she said," Thane said, pointing at the she-Viking. The hologram nodded and disappeared (which was followed by a "where'd you go?" by Thane) and was replaced by a partial map of the galaxy. It, too, appeared to be ripped, just as the one back on Dannon had been, but a different sector was missing which meant they at least had some new information.

"Damn," Erika muttered.

"No M4-7Brangelina?" Thane asked as he found a wireless connection for his iPhone. Tapping the screen, he began to download the information they needed.

"Not even a trace. Garth's gonna be disappointed."

"He'll probably write a song about it to feel better."

"Seriously," Erika said as she pushed frazzled curls out of her face. "You done?"

Thane waited a moment before saying, "Y…yes. Let's get Jolie and get out of here. I need a shower."

"Amen to that, bror," Erika said. "Last one back to the cabin is a smelly gizka."

"I think you've already got that covered, sweetheart," Thane said. Erika's jaw dropped before she grabbed Thane by the collar and kissed him right on the lips. But, before either he (or Brazilla, whose hand was dangerously close to her lightsaber) could truly react, Erika pushed Thane back and took off through the underbrush. Thane went crashing after her, laughing, and Brazilla just shook her head as the clam shell closed and cast the forest in shadow once more.

* * *

A/N: Ah, Real Life. 45-50 hour weeks at work (and 14 hour days). Apartment hunting. Car issue dealing. That and plot bunnies dragged me out of parody and into a dramatics campaign during which I have written a prologue and the first ten chapters of a post-KotOR II three-part story arc starring the Exile, one Maiali Tal. Whew. Talk about sucking up all my creative juices. But now I am finally able to write parody again and can once more build up my buffer of chapters in case I hit a dry spell again.

Okay, in this chapter, in case you missed it, I paraphrased/borrowed Madonna's "Like a Virgin" (both the original and the Moulin Rouge version…), Eric Idle's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life", and a camp song from my days as a Girl Scout. There's also that major reference to a certain painting. Also, I would like to send a thank you to Stephen Colbert for getting me back in the mood to write. I wish I had enough pull to get me a free iPhone, too… Anyone feel like emailing Steve Jobs for me? Yay iPhones…!

Translations:

Jeg sover ikke nu – _I'm not sleeping  
_Hvad… – _What...  
_Du skal spiller ikke med det – _You shouldn't play with it.  
_Jeg hader tinger lide det – _I hate things like this.  
_Jo, det er ikke – _Yeah, it's really not.  
_Bror – _brother_


	13. Chapter 13: The Tale Almost Told Earlier

Chapter Thirteen: The Tale That Was Almost Told Earlier

As per usual, Thane woke up to an otherwise unoccupied bed and he began to wonder where his reputation for being a womanizer came from. He hadn't reaped in any of the benefit the Conclave women had to offer when he was there and he wasn't sure if he would get the chance any time soon considering his company.

But a cold bed was not what woke the big Jedi in a sweat. It had been the dream about another land clam, this one deep in some cave. More specifically, it had been the monster that was trying to kill him while he was downloading information into his iPhone that had woken him. To say the least, it hadn't been a pleasant dream. In fact, it had been a very unpleasant dream. Thane rolled over with a grunt and was halfway to the refresher when someone knocked on his door. It was Brazilla.

"Are you still sleeping?" she asked, giving him the once over. Thane glanced down to make sure he was actually wearing something. Trousers. Check. Still, Brazilla's lips pursed as her eyes lingered on his glistening skin.

"Yes."

Brazilla lifted her brow. Thane grinned.

"Is there something I can help you with this morning, sweetheart? I haven't made my bed yet." He glanced over his shoulder towards said furniture and, upon turning back, caught Brazilla's curious glance into his room. She turned red.

"I'm here to take you…"

"Oh?"

"…to talk to the Masters. They contacted us a few minutes ago."

Thane's disappointment was exaggerated as he put his forearm on the door jamb and leaned a little closer to the woman. Brazilla just shook her head and put her hands on her narrow waist. They were rather close—closer than they had been on Cash—and Thane could smell her shampoo. It was intoxicating, though he would never admit to using the word.

"Have I been bad?" he asked, his voice low.

Not catching on, Brazilla just shook her head. "Rather good, actually. They want to congratulate you, I believe, mostly about Cash but also for getting Erika back on the path to the Light Side. She answered their call."

"She was being rather naughty back on Dannon, wasn't she? Going off and disobeying the Masters like that? Tsk tsk."

"What?" Brazilla said. She took in Thane's reclined posture and the little smile hidden in the corner of his mouth and frowned. "I think you had better get dressed. They're pleased with you but have other more critical things to attend to."

Thane straightened. "You sure you don't need anything else?"

"I'm good, thanks. Now hurry up." Not following her own advice, Brazilla lingered where she stood, as if absorbing Thane's heat in the otherwise cold ship. She took in a deep breath, delighting in the sweet tang of his sweat and Thane wanted nothing more than to grab her and give her a good kissing, but found the power to restrain himself. He wasn't sure where it came from, but one glance at the dented durasteel doorframe gave a good idea where it went once Brazilla finally turned around to leave.

--

It took Thane a little longer than normal to get ready after his encounter with Brazilla and by the time he was ready to leave, he had another visitor. Assuming it was Brazilla coming back to reprimand him for keeping the Masters, he was reasonably surprised when it wasn't her voice or her face.

"God morgen, Thane," Erika said as his door _swooshed_ to the side. She was cradling one of the kittens that had mysteriously found their way onto the ship on Cash, this one white and fluffy. It mewled and blinked at Thane with its big blue eyes. "Hvorden gå det?"

"Gibberish, honey," Thane said. He wanted that kitten. "But I'm doing well enough. You?"

It had taken a couple of days, but Thane eventually caught on to this particular line of Erika's language. Still, whenever she started in on the unfamiliar tongue, Thane gently reminded her that very few people understood what she was saying.

"Ah, det gå godt. Det var meget koldt i nat hvor jeg soverede men min morgenmad var varm så…" she replied. "Wait. Sorry. My master was also a Viking. I'm not used to speaking Basic."

"But you said you grew up in the Conclave," he said as they walked towards the common room, eyeing the kitten. Erika shrugged.

"I was gone for a lot of years and just recently went back for my Trials. I'm still not quite a Knight." She shook her head, throwing her blonde frizz and curls into a frenzy. Inside the protective hull of the ship, she had shed her jacket and was wearing instead an electric blue shrug over a closefitting black outfit. The studded belt slung low on her hips was decorated with a large silver belt buckle of two clasping skeletal hands and held the black hilt of her lightsaber.

"I see," Thane said. "Say, do you know anything about what the Masters want to talk about?"

Erika shook her head again. This time the kitten went after the curls, catching them with his little paws. Thane scooped it out of her arms. "You can ask them yourself."

She pointed at the projection of the four Dannon Masters before trying to take the kitten back. Thane was faster.

Each Master looked the Jedi version of upset, which would rank somewhere below mildly annoyed on a normal scale of sentient being emotions. But Thane wasn't worried. He could talk his way out of any situation. And if not, well…Thane didn't actually know. Something deep inside told him there had once been terrible consequences for his will not being carried forth, but he couldn't imagine what they might have entailed. Maybe the withholding of certain pleasures.

Chuckling to himself while imagining such a scene, Thane put his best swagger in his step and went over to the rather expensive overhead projector. They lovingly referred to it as the pork barrel.

"Hey there, miniature Masters," Thane said. He put the kitten down and watched as it began to swat at the blue holograms.

"It's nice of you to join us," said Nixon. "We were starting to wonder how long it would take you." Apparently, they didn't notice the kitten playing with their likenesses.

"I had to make sure I looked my best for you four," Thane replied. He ran a hand through his roguishly long hair and flashed them a shining example from his repertoire of brilliant smiles. "I couldn't imagine facing you mighty mouse Masters still disheveled from my nightly activities."

The projections of the Masters looked at each other a split second after the real ones did back on Dannon. Czar spoke first. "At least you haven't completely lost your sense of decorum, though subtly seems to have gone for want."

Thane furrowed his brow and rapped his fingers on the edge of the projector. The kitten came running, looking to play. "Why does everyone keep talking about me like I used to be some Jedi? Conclave women mentioned it; Erika and Brazilla here keep saying it, you guys, not to mention this crazy tattoo." He showed them his forearm with the words and lightsaber and all.

The Masters frowned as one.

"I'm sure," Adoy began slowly, "that everyone is referring to your former life as a prosthetics smuggler."

"No, no, some of it sounds convincingly Jedi-like, though I can't imagine why people think I used to be one of you guys. There must be some other fiendishly handsome man out there masquerading around as Shane Dunefinder, Usurper of Sloppy Seconds or some other nonsense."

Erika laughed rather loudly behind him, as did Gizmo. He turned a smile on them. Even Brazilla seemed mildly amused. The Masters, however, did not.

"…" went the Task Master.

"What's your next infiltration?" Nixon asked.

"Well, if there's a bright spot in the galaxy, we're traveling to the planet it's furthest from."

"Taboo, then," Czar said with a nod.

"Yessir," Thane replied. "Land of Java, Dust Devils, and spaghetti westerns."

"Very good," Adoy said. "I don't believe you'll find your task terribly difficult."

"It hasn't been so far." Thane stroked the little kitten, who arched its back into his hand and began to purr something like a lawn mower. "Anything else?"

"Nothing at all," Nixon said. "Bye."

When they disappeared, Thane scooped up the little kitten and scratched it behind its ears. The women swooned at the sight of the big man with the tiny ball of white fur he had obviously bonded with. Brazilla nor Erika remembered their conversation on Cash.

"I think," Thane started, "I think I will name him Han."

Erika gave him a look. "Han?"

"Yeah. A good strong name for a solitary rascal."

"Well, okay," Erika said. "You just named him 'he' in my language."

"Pssh." Thane gave her a dismissive wave. "Maybe one day he'll take over the galaxy and when people refer to 'Him' there'll be no mistaking who they mean."

"Right."

Brazilla, who had only been listening, frowned and continued to say nothing, afraid of what might come out of her mouth. Thane had already endeared himself to her and this whole kitten thing was making him even more…precious in her eyes.

"Hey, it could happen," Thane continued. "I figure that until you're dead, you're capable of doing damn near anything you put your mind to. The clever among us might even figure out how to do stuff after death, too."

"That's preposterous," Brazilla said.

"Hauntings, my dear. Those are the sharp ones."

"I don't believe in ghosts."

Thane smiled and continued to pet the now sleeping kitten in the crook of his arm. "When I die you'll be the first person I haunt. I'll be sure to come in the middle of the night and gently wake you up before scaring the living crap out of you."

"That sounds…"

"Pleasant?"

Brazilla's frown deepened to hide the blush making its way up her neck. "I was going to say ridiculous."

Neither noticed that the common room was suddenly devoid of other people; only a few sleepy kittens remained. They were probably the only creatures in the ship that had no problem with the swamp-like atmosphere that suddenly rose between the two Jedi. Brazilla shifted from one foot to the other and back again.

"I…" she said, without getting the chance to continue when Thane crossed the room and grabbed her by the arm. Still holding little Han, he kissed her like he had kissed no other woman he could remember and was surprised when her lips opened to his. The moment, however, was broken by Garth.

"We're about to drop," he said.

Thane ignored him but Brazilla, as if suddenly realizing what was going on, put her hands on Thane's chest and pushed.

"We…ah…you," she tried to say as she went about straightening out her clothing, which didn't actually need it. Thane hadn't gotten very far. He chuckled and leaned back to look down the corridor that led to the cockpit.

"Hey, Garth!" he called. "Were you watching us?"

"What?" the pilot yelled back. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, never mind."

"But in case you hadn't noticed, I put up a new sign in there," Garth went on to say. "Over by the kitchenette."

Thane and Brazilla turned that way to see another of Garth's impeccable hand-written signs: _No Lusting in the Common Room._

"I don't know if I would call that lusting," Thane said out of the side of his mouth to Brazilla.

"Call what lusting?"

"Ah-hah, funny."

But Brazilla just walked away leaving Thane high and dry with the kittens. He muttered something under his breath and went to join Garth in the cockpit.

--

Where Cash and Dannon had been practically overwrought with life, Taboo was the polar opposite. Sure there was life down there in the sand, but how it managed to survive was something Thane wondered at very briefly. He then realized that he didn't particularly care and sat back in the co-pilot's seat, his feet up on the console.

"I would appreciate you not putting your feet there," Carth said.

"Okay." But Thane didn't move. He just continued to watch their slow descent towards the dunes, the sand, and the large city known as Balnchaine.

* * *

A/N: Oh, and there were Star Wars and prez. campaign references in here. And little Han is based on Real Life cat Hank (Thaddeus Venture) who is an absolute nut job and the most handsome damn cat I've ever seen (we think he's purebred American Bobtail but was put in the pound because of his weirdly crooked tail that's about twice as long as it should have been but just as fat thanks to his double-z shaped tailbone…).

Okay, translations:

God morgen, Thane. Hvorden gå det? – _Good morning. How's it going?_

Det gå godt. Det var meget koldt i nat hvor jeg soverede men min morgenmad var varm så…" – _I'm good. It was cold last night when I sleeping but my breakfast was warm so…"_


	14. Chapter 14: Kitten Warfare

Chapter Fourteen: The Java That Woke Up Yo' Momma in the Wake of Kitten Warfare

Thane blinked. And then he blinked again. When the spots still hadn't cleared from his vision, he blinked a third time and shook his head.

First he realized that he was laying in the sand and then that his nose hurt like a mother. Touching it, he wasn't surprised to find blood on his fingers. A big question mark appeared in his mind as he pushed himself up on to his elbows.

"Those are my kittens, man!" someone yelled. Thane didn't recognize the voice. Looking up and blocking out the suns with one hand, he found the man who was yelling at him and suddenly remembered the ambush. He had barely taken a step off the ship, little Han trotting along behind him carrying a pink toy mouse, when a man broke from the small crowd in their landing zone to punch him full in the face before he could properly react. It must have been some punch, Thane mused, to knock him out like that.

He blinked again and noticed that Han was sitting on his chest, regarding him. Petting the kitten's head and picking him up, Thane stood.

"What makes you think they're yours, Shorty McShortface?"

The man was smaller than Thane by about a foot and a half, which meant he was also shorter than Erika, who had joined them while Thane was unconscious, Garth, who was coming down the gangway as they spoke, and Brazilla, who was barely a step behind. Shorty looked around, suddenly wary of Thane's troupe of giants.

"Um…?" he said. "You know what? Never mind. I can do without ten kittens. Stinky things, aren't they…? Heh, heh. Sorry about the face." And, once more, before Thane could respond, Shorty turned on his heel and high-tailed it out of there. They just watched him go. Han mewed and shook his bobbed tail.

"That was strange," Brazilla commented at the same time Erika said, "Are you okay?"

Thane looked between the two of them. "Yeah it was and, no, I think I might need a kiss to make it better."

Erika smiled and, raising herself up on to her toes, kissed Thane's swollen nose. "Is that better?"

"Much. Thanks, kid." Han crawled out of Thane's arms and deposited himself beneath Erika's mass of curls, his body bowed around her neck, his head barely visible over one shoulder. "I think he likes you."

"I did have him first, you know."

"Ah, that sounds like possession. Remember our talk about possession?"

"Very much so," her lips curled into a smile as she pet Han behind the ears. His eyes closed. "It was very stimulating."

"Okay," Garth said, cutting in. "Okay, let's get focused on what we have to do."

Thane frowned but hopped on the bandwagon anyway. "Well, considering it's in a cave, I highly doubt it's in the city."

"Very astute," Brazilla said, not quite meeting Thane's eyes. "I think there are some caves to the east of here."

"Good," Thane said, "then we've got a heading. Who wants to come with?"

Of the three who were out there with him, only Brazilla didn't raise her hand. "I'm a little tired," was her excuse.

"I'll bet," was Thane's response. Erika looked at them. Garth didn't want to know. Han slept and dreamed little kitten dreams. "Okay, go get ready. Erika, put Han down somewhere. Brazilla, I'd like to speak with you a moment."

She looked at him, her eyes a little more hooded than she would have liked, as the other two went back into the ship.

"I'm afraid our…relationship has gone a little awry," she said.

"Like a wrong turn down a dark and very private alley?"

"Yes. No. You are a terrible person." That statement didn't stop her from closing the distance between them, though, her chin tilting just enough to look into Thane's eyes as he looked down at her.

"Are you going to punish me?" Thane asked so only she could hear. "I haven't been a very good Jedi."

"You're ideal," she said, putting her hand between them.

"I don't believe you."

She gripped at his shirt, her knuckles the only part of her body touching his. Their eyes were barely open. "You have the strength we dream of, the determination. You are the image of health."

He could feel each word as it left her lips, each soft puff of air. "You still don't have me convinced. What about my BAR?"

"Your dependence on foreign substance has gone down, haven't you noticed? You're able to rely on your own naturally produced source of fuel." Her smile sent a shiver down his spine.

"Or the fact that I've only been at this for a couple of weeks?"

"Experience doesn't matter." Her other hand made its way to his chest and traced the definition it found there. "You have accomplished more in the weeks you've been a Jedi than most accomplish in their lifetime."

"You're pretty damn good, too, lovely. An entire life of training. I can hardly imagine." But the moment he put a hand on her waist, she danced away from him, a smile turned over her shoulder.

"Work on that," she said from the ramp. "And maybe one day we'll see how close you are."

Thane bit down on his lower lip so hard he was sure a chunk of it would come off in his mouth. Brazilla just smiled a little wider as she turned around and disappeared into the shadow of the _Pigeon._

He watched the spot she disappeared from, willing her to return and agree to come with them. He didn't want her to stay on the ship but knew that he could only take two of his crew with him. Damn Garth for wanting to participate.

He watched the spot so adamantly without actually expecting her to come back that when someone approached the boarding ramp, Thane jumped. It was Canute the Brute and he was eyeing Thane like he had a score to settle.

"You don't expect to keep us bottled up on the ship while you're out there making sand castles, do you? I think the old man might drive me insane, not to mention sitting on my ass and not fighting." He gestured back at the _Pigeon_ with a big hand and long fingers. He, unlike Thane, could have easily stepped off the cover of a romance novel, except for the scar that bisected his face ear to ear and the military cut of his hair. At one point in his life, he might have been a handsome man but years of hard war was now permanently chiseled on his face.

As he looked at him, Thane suspected that he might be a Viking despite his claim at being a Mandie, but having not seen the bigger man converse with Erika, it was impossible to tell. All Thane knew was that Mandies collected people from everywhere and that Canute "the Brute" Olav could very well have come from Dannon, once upon a midnight dreary. The naked valkyrie tattoo on Canute's arm was something of a hint.

"I don't," Thane replied. "You can do whatever you want, but I can only take two people with me at any given moment, so as long as you're ready and rearing to go when I return to possibly call upon your assistance, you can booze up to your heart's content. Maybe even do a little sleeping around. You just gotta keep that comm in your ear and enough of a mind to pay attention to it."

Canute looked at him in the same steely-eyed manner that Thane was able to accomplish before nodding. "Okay. But will you ever take anyone besides one of the girls or the depressed soldier with you? I could have better things to do. Seeking honor in war, for one."

"You don't have to stick around if you don't want to," Thane said.

"Well, when you put it that way…" Canute snorted. "I think you are the only person in this entire galaxy who will know the glory of battle in any way that matters. Except maybe Relevant, but he ain't showing his face around these parts anymore so I think I'll stick with you for now."

"I was told Relevant was dead," Thane replied. "Killed by Talck a couple of months back."

"Did the cowardly Jedi tell you that?" Canute said as he closed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah. Why? I don't have any reason to not believe them. Do you know something?" He frowned. After the encounter with Brazilla, this was definitely not the kind of conversation he wanted to be having. In fact, he didn't want much talking to be taking place, had he a say in anything which, apparently, he didn't. Since basically sobering up on the ill-fated _Bedliner_, Thane had begun to question some of his core beliefs—mainly the one about his supposed reputation as a lady killer. It occupied about a quarter of his brain, these days (Brazilla took up maybe one half of the grey matter, Erika an eighth, and the rest of everything the last fraction).

Thane shook his head just as Canute dropped his arms back to his sides. "I don't know for sure, but I have a hunch and my hunches are generally correct. It's why I survived the war."

Thane shrugged after studying the man. "Whatever. But I am going to warn you that I have a tendency to get stuck in a rut, so we'll just have to wait and see how you fit into the equation. Like I told the kid, someday I might find a use for you but you'll have to stick it out to see. Next time I find myself in need of some muscle that mine can't take care of, I'll come callin'."

Canute's response (which most likely would have been put in terms of honor or glorious war) was cut short by the reappearance of Garth and, much to Thane's delight, Brazilla.

"Erika suddenly took ill, poor dear," Brazilla explained. "So I decided to take her place."

She brushed by Thane much closer than necessary as she pulled her lusciously thick hair out of her face. Canute gave an approving nod and Garth seemed oblivious to the fact that there had been no daylight between the two Jedi for a split second.

Before heading back into the ship, Canute clapped Thane on the shoulder. "Well, I think I understand why you bring her along, at least. Good luck in your hunting. All of it." And when he offered Thane a wink, he received a grin in return.

--

And so, our small band of heroes departed the docking bay that held their ship. Balnchaine didn't have much to offer at first except for some sand and a few desperate souls, but Thane paid them no never mind. Brazilla seemed to approve of him not giving handouts to the panhandlers (though, Thane almost gave a few coins to the guy whose sign read "Why lie? Need beer" simply for the man's honesty). Garth, however, began to mutter about their plight.

"Why shouldn't we help these poor men and women? Some of them could be veterans who have no food, no home, and only the clothes on their back to keep them warm in the cold, cold nights of Taboo, the planet of the forbidden where any man can find his vice." Thane hadn't noticed the guitar Garth was carrying on his back until it was too late. "They come here searching for a kind soul, one who might be able to offer them a little work for a little pay and a little food, but all they get is a cold shoulder and a harsh word, much like the twin suns that shine down from the sky above, boiling them by day and freezing them by night."

Thane grabbed the guitar's neck to stop the music. "We don't have a lot of money, Commander Troubadour, so I would rather keep it in my pocket in case we run across something we really need to, you know, save the galaxy from certain doom." He let go of the instrument and continued on his merry way without the sound of Garth's guitar to accompany his step. He didn't need to announce to the world that he was here on a mission for the Lesser Jedi Council of Dannon. Luckily, Garth wasn't one to sing songs about him as he walked through the streets of a city. A round of "Good Sir Thane" would not be appreciated in the least. It was possibly the only time Thane was happy that his pilot's songs were of woe and not of his magnificence.

Unfortunately, their presence in the city had already been announced, as was evident by the group of Dark Jedi who met them at the next corner. Thane didn't even get the chance to greet them and possibly quell their desire to kill him before they drew their weapons and attacked.

It was a good thing, then, that Brazilla had insisted they practice during the jump from Cash otherwise Thane wasn't sure how well he would fare against someone wielding the same weapon as he. Sure he had been able to fight off Sith soldiers back on the _Bedliner_ with that sword he had chosen over a blaster for some reason or another, but men in clunky armor weren't quite the same as the lithe Force-users Thane now found himself battling against.

It also didn't help that Brazilla was fighting right next to him. Outside of their sparring, it was the first time he had actually seen her fight. Where he was still a little unsure of his form, she was nimble and quick. A terrible burning sensation on his shoulder, however, brought him out of his musings on Brazilla's perfections.

Thane rounded on the man whose lightsaber had come dangerously close to amputating his arm and blasted him full in the face with the Force. The man's head snapped back, giving Thane the chance to cut him across the chest. Then, kicking him into one of his companions, Thane ended the battle with a Sith kabob.

Their onlookers scurried back to wherever they came from.

"I wonder what the Sith are doing here," Brazilla said as she began searching the bodies.

"Probably the same thing we're doing here," Thane replied as he claimed a short lightsaber for himself. "I suppose that means we should hurry the crap up and get out into the desert."

Brazilla nodded before Garth pointed out the very large metal door standing in their way. The only thing that seemed to be protecting it was a short alien in brown robes. Thane was not intimidated in the least and walked right up to the little guy.

"Hi. We need to go out to the desert."

The little alien jumped and turned around. "M-m-my you're b-b-big."

Thane furrowed his brow. "You must be one of the Javas."

"Y-y-yes. How'd-d-d you kn-know?"

"I'm smart like that," Thane said, not pointing out the Java's nervous twitch, shake or stutter. "I also need to get out of the city."

"C-can't. N-not without a p-p-p…permit."

Thane looked at Garth and Brazilla before going on. "Where do I get me one of those?"

"Lots o-o-of pl-places."

"Such as?"

"I th-think you can w-wi-win one through sw-sw-swoop racing. T-talk to s-s-someone in th-the Pissed Devil." His shaky little hand extending out of his sleeve to point back the way Thane and company had come. "You might also b-b-be able-le to g-get one fr-fr-from one of the mi-mi-mining a-agencies."

Thane watched the little guy sidestep to a full coffee mug and drink down half the liquid before looking back up at the humans, his eyes glowing and dilating. The big Jedi considered lecturing the Java on the dangers of caffeine but decided against it. He didn't want people to think he cared about anyone other than himself, after all. It was his shtick. Brazilla was also distractingly close.

"Thanks," Thane said after a moment. Then, to his companions (though mostly to Brazilla), "Let's go check out the swoop racing. I'd rather win a permit than get a job."

"You're that confident?" Brazilla asked.

"You should watch me go, honey. I can handle a yoke like no one this side of the Core."

"I'd like to see that," she said, not minding the fact that Garth was only a couple of feet away.

"Then let's go swooping," Thane replied. "I'll win you the teddy bear."

She smiled and touched his arm, her breath on his ear. Thane chuckled and would have held her around the waist had Garth not been there to clear his throat and remind them that they were standing in the middle of a hostile city full of men and women who could easily strike them down and steal all of their belongings while they stood there distracted. Thane looked at him, his head still bent over Brazilla.

"Jedi don't get distracted." He kissed Brazilla's neck before straightening. She blushed over losing her composure and didn't turn to look at Garth. "But he's right. We should probably get to the bar and enter me in the competition."

And they did. Garth took the lead per Thane's request, which allowed him to walk next to Brazilla, their pinkies brushing. They were so (un)distracted with each other by the time they reached the bar, they barely noticed the amount time it took to actually get into the building after stepping through the front door.

The bar was, in all sense of the word, a dive. The tables looked dirty and the floor definitely was. There were electric pazaak tables in the corners and betting stations on most other surfaces (including hanging from the ceiling). Humans and aliens alike cheered on the races that were broadcast on large screens.

All of the patrons were so preoccupied by the swoops and the games, they didn't notice the newcomers. Everyone except a woman standing next to the bar, that was. She looked up when Thane and Brazilla finally walked in and pushed past Garth to get to them.

"Brazilla? Is that you?"

Brazilla looked up. "Mother?"

--

A/N: The chapter title is basically based on the strength of the coffee in my office. I only realized it, though, when they brought in a medium roast for us to try and unlike the engineers, I really liked it. The next day when it was gone, I went back to the regular stuff and, well, let's just say that my mother probably had a little extra energy to teach her students that morning.

Also, Canute's name is after Canute the Great, possibly the greatest Viking king of all time, and St. Olav, patron saint of Norway and Viking king. And he is Canderous, so don't get too nervous considering Erika is kind of Juhani's opposite (except for the whole teetering on the edge of the dark side thing I need to write into her character a bit more…).

Oh, and if you haven't already, go check out an American Bobtail kitten. You might melt they're so adorable.


	15. Chapter 15: Bicycle Race

Chapter 15: Bicycle Race

"Oh, Brassy, it is you!" Thane heard through the fog of semi-consciousness. And then, "What's wrong with him?"

He opened his eyes and blinked several times to clear his mind. Glancing around, Thane was surprised to find himself lying on his back in the middle of the floor, which from his vantage point was a lot grosser than it first appeared. He also seemed to be stuck. The two women just regarded him without offering any kind of help.

"Ugh," he grumbled as he attempted a second and third time to get up. There was something sticky holding him in place… But Thane didn't want to even begin guessing what it might be. Probably alcohol. Maybe old sick.

Thane frowned and was successful on his fourth attempt. Putting the tip of a single finger on the floor, not wanting to touch it any more than he already had, Thane stood. A patch of cloth, however, remained behind; the warm, unprocessed air of the bar brushed his bare shoulder.

"What happened?" is what he meant to say. "Mwah harmped," is what actually came out. Still, Brazilla managed to understand.

"You fainted."

Thane looked around, his mind slowly waking up. There was a drink sitting on the table next to him in a glass that was easily as questionable as the floor. The liquid itself might have been called amber-coloured in nature if one ignored the whitish, cloudy patches. Brazilla and her mother were staring at him as he stared at it, trying to determine whether it was safe to drink.

"Passed out," he corrected the moment his mind cleared enough for his tongue to work. Brazilla frowned. "I don't faint. It must have been manly hunger…or something."

"Actually," she said, her accent somehow more posh in the presence of her mother, "it was your BAR. Drink up." She pointed at the glass.

Thane followed the line of her finger and pressed his lips together. There was rarely an alcoholic beverage he encountered that he had no desire to drink and this was one of them. It looked as if something had up and died before spending a couple of years decomposing in whatever barrel it had come out of. It smelled like it, too.

"Hell, no," he said.

"Do you want to die?"

He looked her. "I wouldn't die, just fall into a hypoglycemic coma. Carbs are important to my diet." He shrugged.

Brazilla's mother looked between the two of them. "What's talking about, Brassy?"

Thane cut in. "It's a genetic disorder. Don't make fun of me. I can't help it. You wouldn't laugh at a crippled kid in a wheelchair, would you?" Picking up the glass, Thane studied its contents. "You're a damn cheap Jedi, 'Zilla. This ain't gonna do much," he said before knocking it back. It burned down his throat like something more awful than offal and he had to hide his grimace to not appear weak in front of the ladies, considering who he was. Reputation above all else could have been his motto. Still, he looked at Brazilla with a frown. "Was that embalming fluid?"

"Almost. Something local, the barman said it should do the job." She looked at her mother and pointed at Thane. "That's Thane Sunrider, Mother."

Thane's smile was easy. "Alcohol Consumer of Lore, Conqueror of Virginity, and Jedi Knight."

"Those are quite some titles," Brazilla's mother said. She looked Thane up and down.

"I've led quite a life." He returned the favor.

Brazilla, on the other hand, looked like her head was about to explode. "And this is my mother, Jocasta. She's married."

"That's a real lovely name you have there, Jocasta." He let it roll around on his tongue. Jocasta seemed to enjoy it. "Do you have any sons?" Thane asked, not helping Brazilla's anger. He sat down on the nearest of the desecrated couches and spread his arms, a light smile on his lips.

"No, why?"

"Oh, no reason." He winked at Brazilla. "But might I say that I can see where Brazilla gets her good looks." Pointing at the barman, Thane gestured with his glass, wanting more. The aftertaste was starting to grow on him. "Have you ever thought about becoming a mother-daughter modeling powerhouse duo? I think you two would sell a whole lot of magazines together. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a photographer who knows an editor."

"I don't appreciate pick up lines," Jocasta said. Thane just shrugged.

"Figured I'd give it a try." Lifting his glass to the two of them, Thane finished the second drink in one fell go before standing, the dial on his BAR back in the green. "I can also see where she gets her tongue."

With a sly smile to Jocasta, Thane grabbed Brazilla around the waist and pulled her into a kiss, to which she submitted. When he released her, she stumbled slightly to one side, her hand on her forehead. The strength of the alcohol had transferred to her on saliva alone and the look she gave him as he stepped back was enough to worry her mother. But before Jocasta could kick Thane out of Brazilla's life and possibly off the face of the planet, he spoke up.

"I should go sign up for a race while I'm lucid." He pointed at the swoop registration desk. "Then maybe we can continue this. I'll need a few more rounds in me if we expect to win this thing." Winking at Brazilla, he turned abruptly away and strode off across the bar, Jocasta's warning about 'dangerous men like that' following in his wake.

He only smiled, though, and approached the desk with something of a swagger.

"I hear you've got passes to get out of the city for anyone who wins one of these races," Thane said, leaning on the high counter. The coordinator looked at him, his head tails curling around his neck.

"Whoever told you that was mistaken," he replied. Thane lifted his brow.

"No, I don't think he was."

The man looked at him again without saying a word.

"See, I really need to get out the city. The fate of the entire galaxy depends on it, actually." Thane shrugged. "Now, if you don't have one in the pot for everyone, you could just put one in for little old me and not give it to anyone else. It could be our little secret."

"That's not terribly honest." He typed something into the computer in front of him.

"I'm not a terribly honest guy, what can I say?" Thane flashed one of his megawatt smiles. "But I'm not lying about the whole saving the galaxy, thing, I'll tell you what. The Jedi Council is even backing me on this one. You wouldn't want to get in the way of the Jedi Council, now would you?"

"I don't take kindly to threats, sir," the man said.

"No threats," Thane said, smiling wider. "Just a bit of friendly haggling. So you got a pass or what?"

"I do." The man looked suddenly confused, as if he wasn't sure why he had told the truth. Thane simply smiled. Jedi mind tricks were handy.

"And you wouldn't mind just giving it to me, now would you?" The tips of two fingers twitched.

The man reached into his pocket and handed Thane an oyster card. The big man grinned his widest grin yet and slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks a million, guy."

"Would you still like to sign up for a race?" the coordinator asked, smiling back.

"Why the heck not." Thane slapped the table. "I'm a sucker for a good bicycle race, what can I say? The name's Sunrider."

As the man signed him up, Thane glanced over his shoulder, suddenly curious about where Garth was in all this. He hadn't seen the man since, well, since he had passed out. Granted, he had been a little focused on Brazilla and her mother after waking up and couldn't have cared less about the other man, but now he was starting to get a little worried. Garth never wandered off like this when they were planetside. He usually stuck to the group like some kind of a sucker fish.

But then Thane remembered that he didn't worry about things because he had nothing to worry about. Things always turned out right for him in the end. So, he turned back to the race coordinator, who gave him instructions on where to go to get ready and what gear was available to rent. Thane, using his fantastic skills, convinced the man to waive the fee.

"In that case," he was telling Thane, "just go ahead and get down to the locker room." He handed Thane a key and pointed. Thane thanked the man and turned, only to find Brazilla, Jocasta, and the prodigal bard standing next to him.

"You know," Brazilla said to him, "you really shouldn't use your abilities to get out of paying for things."

"Why not?"

She gave him a look.

"But, Brassy," he said with a smile, "isn't money evil? It turns people into grubbing little pigs who want nothing more than to get fatter and fatter and we, as Jedi, are meant to root out evil, money-related and otherwise. By using money, I would just be giving into the evil machine and we'd have done nothing but fall to the Dark Side of the Force, which is where money originates from. See, darling," he said, slinging an arm over her shoulders, "I've done a good deed by not paying the man. I ain't half bad, if I do say so myself."

She pushed him back off of her. "You need to compensate him for his services."

"I think a smile and a wink are compensation enough. All he did was sign me up for a race."

"And rent you equipment."

Thane dug the oyster pass out of his pocket. "And hand over this baby, baby." He handed it to her and took a drink away from a busty barmaid with blonde pigtails and a horned helmet. "Keep it safe for me while I risk life and limb." When he finished the stolen drink, he handed the empty glass to Garth.

"But you don't need to. We've got what we need."

"I know, but I feel the need for speed and, honey, I haven't been getting any from you." He kissed her again.

Jocasta's jaw dropped. Garth found an interesting poster on the wall. Brazilla turned red, an unfortunate side affect of alcohol consumption. And embarrassment.

"I'll see you later," he whispered in her ear. "And then maybe you can show me how you would handle a stick shift."

She just turned a brighter shade of fuchsia.

--

Thane couldn't remember the last time he had flown a bike. Literally. His last experience had been lost in the darkness of a blackout, but from what people told him, he was magnificent. And Thane had no reason to not believe them. He was good at everything he tried.

Alcohol and adrenaline were coursing through his body, making him shake as much as the bike between his knees. He felt at home here on a race track and Thane briefly considered giving up his life of former crime to become a professional swoop racer. Think of all the fame he would gain. It was exhilarating. It was almost better than sex.

"Nah," Thane said to himself as he put on his borrowed helmet. Flipping up the tinted visor, he looked into the crowd and smiled his smile at Brazilla and her mother. Garth was sitting next to them, guitar in hand, ready to strike up a song the moment Thane crashed and burned into a pile of slag. The big Jedi very briefly appreciated the thought of a song in his honor, so long as it was about how magnificent he was in life.

He revved the engine and smiled wider when Brazilla jumped a little. He liked her liking him, even if she tried to deny it. Though still brash and a little bit caustic, Thane didn't mind how the woman had changed from the first time they met. She seemed a little more like a real person now that she had warmed to him.

Revving the engine once more, Thane flipped his visor back into place with a nod of his head and tilted forward over the swoop, ready for the green light. The riders around him were cursing and insulting each other, kicking at those next to them and cracking various joints in a show of manliness. Thane didn't join in. He was quite confident in his masculinity and had no lack of bravado to boot.

Red. Orange. Yellow. _Zoom…_

Thane released the break holding him in place and shot ahead of the rest of the field. They were all too busy one-upping each other to notice the race had started. A grin crossed his lips as he slid around one of the obstacles and shot over the top of an acceleration pad, switching gears when the engine started to complain.

There was no doubt in Thane's mind that he preferred these little bikes to the larger, clumsier craft that had grown in popularity around the galaxy. Sure, he thought as he kicked at one of the racers who had caught him up, the big ones boosted power, but these little guys were the height of racing engineering. At least in Thane's mind and he was glad this track seemed to think that size didn't matter, as well.

Turning a hairpin, his foot down for stability, Thane shot ahead of the other man and over the top of one, two, three more acceleration pads. He banked to the left to avoid a crashed swoop and fed the engine a little more power as it started to come down from the temporary speed boost. The other racer, still on his tail, seemed to see an opportunity to get past Thane, but was mistaken. The moment Thane saw the other bike in his peripheral, he jerked to the right and slammed into him, his elbow digging into the exposed area of his opponent's neck. The man gagged out a cry as his bike swerved out of control and into the nearest wall, bursting into flame. Thane didn't even think about it.

Coming back into the stadium, Thane stood and lifted one hand to wave at cheering the crowd. He pulled the front stabilizers up in a trick, inciting even louder applause out of the gathered spectators, and twisted into a complicated spiral before dashing off into the track tunnels that twisted and turned just under the surface of Taboo.

The rest of the race was fairly uneventful considering how far the rest of the field was behind Thane. It was their own fault, really, considering they were more focused on beating the crap out of each other than beating the big man in front of them. He was so far ahead, in fact, that he was able to perform tricks at each pass of the stadium much to the delight of everyone, even Brazilla.

And when he came in after the final lap, Thane shattered the record so well that no one could find the pieces of it. The announcer predicted in between fits of glee that no one would ever be able to beat it, which made Thane's chest swell in delight. Finally, he was able to check something off his bucket list. Next, perhaps, he would work on becoming the greatest holonet sensation of all time.

As they were walking away from the winner's circle, even Jocasta congratulated him.

"You really were quite magnificent out there," she said. Thane looked at her and smiled. Brazilla, on the other hand, frowned.

"I heard someone died," she said. "Did you have anything to do with that?"

Thane shook his head. "Not really, no."

"That's not an answer."

"No, it is an answer, just not the one you're looking for." He glanced away. "I mean, he died after he and I got into a little tiff over who was in the lead, but it was an accident, really. He got in the way of my elbow."

Brazilla regarded him, obviously not convinced. After a moment, though, she ceded. "I suppose in high speed situations like that it is harder to calculate what an action might do to someone else. You should still be mindful of everything you do, though. As you saw, even the most innocent of intentions can end up disastrous."

"Got it," Thane said, not getting it. He was too proud of himself for winning the race to file anything away for later recollection. Brazilla frowned even deeper but didn't say a word about it. Now that she liked him, she really wanted to believe that he wouldn't go back to being the monster he used to be. She remembered him from her adolescence, admiring him even then as a star, swooning over him along with the rest of the galaxy: male, female, human and non- alike. He was Thane Sunrider, famous Jedi, loved by all. She had even loved him while he slowly fell into the madness of a new religion. Would she, she wondered, marry this man she had once been a fan of?

Garth cut into her musings, though, her question going unanswered for the time being.

"You know, we should probably get gettin' on with our mission," he said from the back of the little group, absently strumming his guitar was they walked. "Other people are out there looking for it, too, and if they find it first, well, the entire galaxy will suffer a terrible fate. A fate worse than death. A fate we can easily prevent with a little forethought and less dilly-dawdling."

Thane turned to look at him. "How's about heading out after dinner first, Pops? I think we deserve to celebrate with the credits I raked in today, considering the magnitude of my victory. My treat this time. No pretending to forget my wallet in the _Pigeon_, even, scout's honor." He put an arm around Brazilla and pulled out his iPhone to consult its new app. "Let's go find some place classy."

Garth looked at Brazilla for support, but she was in Thane's court this time. "We do need to eat, Commander. Besides, it's starting to get dark and going out into the dunes at night is like a death sentence. We'll start bright and early in the morning. I promise."

She smiled up at Thane and, to a lesser degree, her mother, who was still tagging along. Thane saw the expression and began to wonder exactly what Jocasta was still doing with them. Brazilla had mentioned a number of times back on Dannon that her relationship with her mother was strained at best and that the two strove to not spend much time around each other. Something was up.

But that could wait. Right now he was going to enjoy his winnings and Brazilla's healthy new attitude.

--

A/N: Here is the slew of excuses you probably don't want to hear: 1. Real Life; 2. a serious three-part KOTOR fic that's taking up all my free time and creative juices (part one is a little over half done and will be posted once it's complete); 3. a humor dry spell in mind and in Real Life (Heroes, the end of SG: Atlantis, and Food Network does not inspire much wit); 4. laziness (I know you were waiting for that one); and, 5. the loss of my chapter cushion in the previous chapter meaning this WIP has come up to bite me in the you know where. Not my best work, but it's something.

Title borrowed from the Queen song of the same name.


	16. Chapter 16: The Conqueror of Virginity

A/N part one: Thanks, Jen, for kicking my butt into gear. I didn't actually realize it had been so long since I last updated this thing...

--

Chapter 16: In Which the Conqueror of Virginity Protects Innocence

When Thane woke the next morning, there was a warm spot in the bed next to him. He couldn't tell right away if it was one left by him or by someone else, so he rolled over and went back to sleep, hoping on the latter and that the person would make a timely return.

When Thane woke for the second time that morning, the warm spot had turned cold and he was still alone. Maybe it had been his. He rolled over again, still not quite ready to get up and face the big monster that waited for him out in the desert, when the door to his cabin slid open.

Brazilla.

"Morning, darlin'," he said, pushing the blankets down to his waist and propping himself up on one elbow. His smile came easy. Hers was a little harder to coax, but it eventually joined them.

"Are you still asleep?" she asked. "I left hours ago."

Thane's smile widened. "So I wasn't dreaming last night."

"No, I'm pretty sure you were," she said as she walked over to the bed. Perching herself on the edge, she pushed a piece of hair across his forehead in a very uncharacteristic manner. "I don't think this was supposed to happen for a long time."

"You mean like towards the end of this crazy journey we're on? Maybe on the white sands of some exotic planet outside the known galaxy in front of all these groupies I've attracted that are slowly becoming friends and comrades?"

"Yeah."

"Can't help feelings, lovely," he said, running a hand down her back. "You just gotta let them flow."

She responded only by turning away, a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. For the amount of control she generally tried to exert over others, Thane was surprised at her own lack of discipline. He sat up completely as he thought about it, a smile touching his lips, and was about to plant a kiss on her cheek when someone else joined them. This time it was Erika. She was holding on to both sides of the doorframe and leaning into the little room, one foot hooked around the other ankle.

"Hey, Thane?" she said.

"I'm a little busy, kid." He didn't look at her.

"Killroy is acting up. Something about wanting to kill meatbags but not being able to for some reason or another. He's not talking about us, is he?"

"I'll deal with it in a bit." He glanced at Erika. She was in another one of her getups, this time a grey herringbone wool vest with a turquoise silk lining over a hot pink shift dress. Two studded belts were slung low over her hips, attached in the front with a big buckle—today it was a ruby-eyed silver dragon. In order to stave off the cold and remain halfway decent, she also wore black tights, yellow legwarmers, and mid-length boots with a tall heel, her lightsaber rocking gently against her thigh. Her blonde hair was neatly curled, her earrings, bracelets, and rings big and of multiple precious metals and cheap plastics.

"Han er også muttering about some guy named Roboto. Do you know anyone named Roboto? Hvem er Roboto…?" she finished with a mutter.

"I do not," he said. "Do you mind?" He gestured at Brazilla.

"Right. Kissy-kissy private time. Undskylde. Hej." She gave Brazilla a good stink-eyed once over before turning around with a flip of her hair, her boot heels clicking a little louder than they really should have back down the corridor. Brazilla watched her until the door closed.

"You might actually want to go take care of that," she said. "He is kind of an unstable assassin droid after all."

"His license to kill expired before he came on board so he's actually reasonably safe, all things considered. I'll deal with him when I'm done with you, honey," he assured with one of his smiles. And despite all of her years of training, Brazilla was beginning to melt in their presence. "So, where'd you run off to this morning?"

"To deal with my mother. It turns out she was looking for money and thought that she might be able to get some of our winnings. She actually asked me what use we have for it, being what we are. The nerve."

"You mean stinkin' rich?"

Brazilla gave him a look reminiscent of those she used to give him.

"Jedi are supposed to be pious and poor," Thane pointed out. "You should know that better than me."

"I do know that, but I don't know why she would expect me to give her anything after abandoning me like she did."

"She sort of gave you life, you know."

Brazilla snorted. "Reluctantly, I'm sure."

"It's kind of a big deal."

"It also takes two people."

Normally, Thane would push the subject to an argument, but he didn't feel like getting into one at the moment. He couldn't explain it; there was just something telling him that he didn't have the words, nor did Brazilla. Anyway, Thane reasoned, it would have been a pretty pointless fight. He knew that Brazilla didn't care for her mother and figured it didn't really matter if he knew exactly how much she disliked the woman who had given her life. So, he moved on.

"I suppose we should stop lingering and get on getting to the Map of Star's Homes before it gets eaten by the monster I dreamt about." He began to sit up. As he did, he discovered that he was wearing something after all. Maybe Brazilla had been right about the dreaming comment.

Nah. He had a reputation to uphold, even if it was only in his mind.

Standing, Thane stretched and went about putting on the same clothing he had worn the day before. Brazilla watched him, saying, "I don't think the dragon will be able to eat the Map, Thane."

He looked at her and almost tripped over the trousers he was trying to pull on. "Dragon?"

"Yes."

"Like, fire-breathing, virginal-damsel-in-distress dragon?"

"I believe so."

Thane frowned. "Wonderful. Good thing I'm a knight, then." He looked at Brazilla where she was still sitting on his bed. "Maybe I should take Canute and Garth."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need to spend my time protecting your hide while trying to protect my own. I've only got so much I can think about at a time and when something is trying to eat me, gut me, maim me, or all of the above my focus is narrowed to only me. Besides, the dragon should have no interest in them."

"Because they're men?" she said, standing, her fists clenched. "That is the most sexist…"

Thane put his hands on her shoulders. "No, because Garth's got a kid and Canute is, well, Canute. I'm sure he's got illegitimate children scattered across the galaxy by now."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he went on. "I'm doing it to protect you girls."

"Oh, so you know something about us, do you?"

He tapped the side of his nose. "I can smell it."

"That's gross."

"I'm kidding."

She paused. "Oh."

Thane chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll bring you back some treasure."

"Just make sure you come back in one piece," she said quietly. Thane said that he would and left her behind in the dark.

--

It didn't take the three men much time to get through Balnchaine and besides that, nothing terribly exciting happened. Several women swooned at the sight of Thane (having recognized him as the champion from the previous day) and when he hardly paid them the time of day (much to his despair, actually—was Brazilla turning him into a monogamous man?) they went ahead and swooned over Canute, who appreciated Thane's not-so-sloppy seconds. Garth picked up one or two trashy thirds.

The girls, however, didn't follow them out into the desert, mostly because the Java wouldn't let them out of the city. The little guy was surprisingly fast when it came to catching nubile young women trying to slip past him. That fiasco was put out of Thane's mind, however, as he stood legs-apart observing the dunes.

"This must be where the galaxy comes to die," he said. "When all is said and done, Taboo, a bunch of roaches, and a couple of deaf old cats will be all that's left."

"Deaf cats?" Garth asked. Thane glanced at him, aviator glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"They can't hear for crap to know what's going on and the only reason they're still alive is because they're wily. And their reserve of human souls."

Garth just stared at Thane, not actually wanting to know. Canute wasn't paying attention considering he was too busy loading his very large gun. Hefting it up over one shoulder, he glanced at the other two.

"So where's this dragon we're going after?" he gruffed. "Judith's keen for some action."

Thane looked at Canute and Judith. His sidearm was named Sally. With a shrug, he gestured to the north. "Over there somewhere."

"Should we ask for directions?" Garth said. Thane turned on him.

"I know where I'm going."

"I just thought…"

"Then stop thinking."

Garth sighed.

After that, the men wandered around in the desert for awhile. Thane continued to insist that he knew exactly where he was going while Garth counted the number of times they passed the same rock. Canute, who didn't seem affected by the heat, was happy enough to just shoot the big creatures that seemed to be wandering around in circles of their own. It made them easy prey. Eventually, Thane joined in on the sport and by the time they spotted the large rock formation Thane figured hid the Map, both men had a pretty large payload of skulls. A long trail of buzzards followed in their wake.

"Told you I'd get us here," Thane said, putting the skulls in the sand.

Garth shielded his eyes from the sun. "Do you have a plan?"

"Do I ever have one?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer." Thane grinned. "Unless, of course, you consider going in guns and swords ablazin' as a plan."

"I suppose it sounds like one at least," Garth said. He hadn't touched his guitar the entire way from the city. Thane was as proud of the man as he could be until he saw the troubadour's fingers inch towards the bridge. "Do you think anyone will mourn for us after we become the dragon's next meal? the next victims of a terrible beast who is just trying to make his way in the world? Woe are we, the men who come looking for riches and glory and only end up as fuel for the ever-living."

Canute gave the pilot one look up and down. He hadn't previously been exposed to Garth's tendencies as the two men rarely conversed. And considering Canute had killed a lot of Garth's friends and visa versa during the Mandalorian Wars, they tended to spend their time on very opposite sides of the ship doing things that would ensure they wouldn't run into each other. Thane hadn't thought about that when he picked them to come.

_Too late_, he thought. All he could do now was damage control.

Thane didn't look at them, though, as he studied the mouth of the cave and the creature resting inside. "I don't think he'll be living after today, Garth, buddy. I plan on killing him dead."

"That somehow seems the very opposite kind of thought you should be having as a Jedi," Garth replied. Thane just waved a dismissive wave at him.

"I was a criminal first."

"There is such a thing as changing your ways, cowboy."

"We've already been over that," Thane said. "Back on Cash. I don't need a reprise."

Garth pressed his lips together. He was about to go on when Thane activated his lightsaber.

"I'll be right back," the big Jedi said over his shoulder as he sprinted over the sand. It was actually rather difficult considering it was the soft variety and Thane found himself tripping and slipping as he approached the dragon. After awhile, the creature lifted its head, curious about the little morsel running towards it, and snorted fire. Thane didn't seem to notice, though, as he hit the rough ground in front of the cave with his face, having finally gotten his foot caught well in the sand.

He stood with a groan and looked at the dragon. The dragon looked back and got to its feet with a yawn, revealing that it was rather larger than Thane had originally thought. He swallowed. Maybe this was a bad idea…

The thought didn't last long, however, considering he had to skip to the side to avoid being fried to a crisp. The dragon fluttered its useless wings and tried again. Thane dove forward this time, the fire licking his back without burning the skin, though definitely cooked. That was going to sting in the morning.

Standing again, Thane decided to make short work of the dragon. He wasn't much in the mood for a long, drawn out fight. That being the case, he once more started sprinting at the dragon. It was considerably easier this time considering he was on solid ground.

Approaching the creature, he took hold of the spikes that ran up its front legs and jumped from one to the next, quickly mounting the creature. Thankfully, it had a short, broad neck, so it didn't take much balance work for Thane to climb to the dragon's head in order to plunge his lightsaber smack-dab between its eyes. The dragon hardly had time to react before it fell over dead, throwing Thane into the nearby stone wall as it did.

Thane blinked several times, dazed and sat where he had fallen, staring at the creature.

"Wow," a voice said. Thane didn't recognize it. Looking up, he squinted through his sunglasses—which had remained perfectly in place throughout the fight—to find the man behind it. What he saw startled him. The kid could have been Gizmo except for the trench coat and the distinct maleness of his face. "I never thought I would escape that place. Thanks. Quite a show, man."

Thane stood up and shook his head. "Who are you?"

"McGruff."

Thane frowned. "You wouldn't happen to be related to a girl named Gizmo, would you?"

"Shoot," McGruff said. "She's gonna castrate me."

"What were you doing here anyway?" Thane looked over the top of the kid's head at the glittering treasure that filled the cave. "Is this your get-rich-quick scheme? Brilliant."

"She told you about that too, I see."

"You're dead meat, dude."

McGruff looked at the dead dragon. "There's not some kind of Jedi sorcery you can use to bring the big girl back to life, is there? She took real good care of me…"

Thane glanced at the dragon, too, before looking back at Gizmo's brother. "No. Now if you would excuse me."

He pushed the boy aside and made his way into the cave, pulling out his iPod as he went. The Map was fairly obvious among the rest of the gathered treasure as it was the only thing that didn't glitter and Thane took next to no time uploading the data he needed. Once done, he rooted through the treasure to find something pretty for the girls back on the boat.

While he was pillaging, Canute and Garth joined him in the cave and took McGruff by the collar of his coat upon Thane's request. He wouldn't dare miss the opportunity to let Gizmo at her slacker of a brother after all of the complaining she had done about him over the weeks. It was all she talked about. Hopefully this (along with something shiny) would shut her up for a good while.

Thane looked at the rest of his party once he was finished. "Let's get this outfit back on the road," he said, glancing over Garth's shoulder. The pilot turned to see if there was anything back there.

"Expecting someone?"

"Some guy named Canker," Thane said with a grunt. "Someone told me that I killed him back on Taris but I think I saw him scrambling around in the shadows back in Balnchaine." He chewed on his lower lip. "Whatever. I'll deal with him when he shows up. Let's go."

Thane led everyone back into the desert, his Jedi robes blowing in the wind.

--

A/N part two: Again, the funny bone is suffering. At least in my opinion.

If you don't pick up on what HK is supposed to be parodying… Well, I don't know what I'll do. He's a whole jumble of things, actually. Also, in case you're wondering why I spend so much more time describing Erika than anyone else, it's because she's supposed to be something of a Mary Sue. She's not me, I assure you (though, I do admit that her wardrobe is similar to mine if mine took steroids). She's really just a generic, run-of-the-mill, why-not-have-one, just-for-kicks Mary Sue who wears "ultra-cool" stuff. I sometimes think of Noel Fielding when he's doing mild (not the glitterball suit or any of his other cat suits…) with a little Carrie Bradshaw and '80's Madonna thrown in for good measure.

Oh, and thanks to Elwin Ransom for one idea about HK. It's a perfect excuse to not use him much even though I kind of like the guy.

Final thing, the "deaf old cats" line is in reference to my 20 year old cat who, as we are convinced, will live through the apocalypse on her reserve of human souls (because, of course, every time you touch her you lose a little piece of your soul; it's the only reason she's still alive). More of a joke for my family than for anyone else… (I really do love her considering I've had her since I was three or so; she's just a little pathetic these days).


	17. Chapter 17: Spring Break '56

A/N uno: I should have pointed out that it was the "license to kill" idea that was Elwin Ransom's. I don't know why I didn't specify it in the previous a/n. (I realized my mistake several hours after posting the chapter… Sorry!)

--

Chapter 17: Spring Break '56

Thane murmured in his sleep and rolled over, pillowing him head on his arm and falling back into his dreams.

He and Canute had spent the last three days getting drunk and playing the Jedi version of chess. The game itself was rather violent considering how Jedi liked to present themselves and the men, like most, concentrated less on strategy than they did on the numerous creative ways they could get their creatures to kill their opponent's. At one point, Thane was able to convince one of his holograms to construct a double-bladed lightsaber and go on a killing rampage of Canute's horned warriors.

The Mandie called it a draw.

Before the two men had started playing Jedi chess, however, they began their drinking odyssey by watching Gizmo chew out McGruff. Every time she mentioned "get-rich-quick" or "loser" or "abandoned" they took a shot of juma and by the time McGruff was able to slink off into Balnchaine without even an idea of what the word integrity meant, the two men were singing drinking songs.

"If God wanted us sober," they sang, "he'd knock the glass over, so drink up, drink up, drink up."

They continued to drink and sing (and play Jedi chess) all they way to their next destination, musing from time to time what the temperature might be on Can'nonbe'ach. Hopefully, they decided, it would be warm enough for the women they would encounter to wear bikinis.

When they reached the sunny ocean paradise, however, Thane was unconscious under the cot in the medical bay and Canute was sleeping on top of the work bench, both completely unaware that they had landed. Killroy and J4G-GL were cleaning up after the men since the crew could hardly walk for the scattered alcohol bottles, while almost everyone else was planetside taking in the fresh air.

Thane had finally met his match. Almost.

Waking with a groan when someone poked him sharply in the ribs, Thane struggled to open his eyes. Everything was too bright and too loud. Rolling onto his front and hiding his face in his arm, Thane willed his body to recover faster than it normally would have otherwise. He even attempted to call on the Force to help heal his throbbing brain cells, liver, and kidneys to little avail.

"Ugh," Thane groaned.

"Get up," Brazilla replied.

"I don't think my legs will work too well right now, honey."

Though he couldn't see it, Brazilla crossed her arms over her ample chest. "You don't want that brute to best you, do you?" she said.

"Eh?" Thane peeked at her through a squinted eyelid.

"He's up and doing calisthenics."

Thane attempted to push himself off the ground but only smacked the back of his head on the bottom of the cot. Falling back to his chest, a wave of nausea struck; the first sign of recovery.

"I don't believe you," he said once he could successfully open his mouth. "Mandies don't do calisthenics. They shoot things."

Brazilla frowned. "What if I told you that the women were all fawning over him and would hardly see you if you took much longer getting up."

"I got you, babe," he said. "Besides, there's no ignoring my awesome magnificence. They'll forget all about him once I come out of the shadows."

She ground her teeth together. "You're aware that I'm just trying to get you up off the floor, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, which means you'll have to lie a whole lot better to get me to move because this floor is getting more comfortable by the minute." He chuckled and turned his head to face her fully, blinking against the light. It was really bright in the darkness. Surprisingly bright, actually, considering the nearest light was in the main hold.

_How much does that suck?_

He shook his head and immediately regretted it. "C'mon, Jedi are good at lying, aren't they? You should be able to spin a more convincing tale than the ones you've been trying."

"It's against our Code to lie."

He snorted. "That's right. You just have your own truths."

"You should remember that you're one of us now."

"I don't recall having much of a choice in the matter." He got up then, and stood over her, swaying slightly, his eyes narrowed. "In fact, after saving you, I haven't had much freedom at all. You'd think that with all this power we'd be able to do a little more of what we want to do and not just what we're told to do."

"That's why we have restrictions, Thane. Without them we'd be no better than the Sith."

"I'm starting to wonder if their life isn't as bad as people make it out to be." He swept his hair out of his face and looked away, conveniently missing Brazilla's look of horror. In fact, had he caught any of them before now, he would have started getting a little tired of them, considering how often her face went to that particular expression.

"I mean," Thane went on, "the bad guys get to wear black and have goatees and often get more girls than the good guys do. All y'all women say you want nice guys, but I know better. Bad boys turn you on, don't they, honey." He grinned. "I think I could pull that role off real well." He stroked the stubble on his upper lip and chin as if doing the same to a full growth of facial hair. "I've even been thinking of growing a beard. You'd like that wouldn't you? Yeah, you would."

"You shouldn't even be joking about it," she said quietly. "The dark side isn't something to take lightly."

"It ain't so bad as all that."

"Excuse me?"

Thane shrugged. "I've done the criminal thing. Being bad often leads to really good rewards. Really, really good rewards."

"You didn't do anything that could be considered evil, did you?" She put a hand on his arm.

"Not that I can recall," he said.

"Good."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Do you know something I don't?" he asked. "Because, you know, there's still a whole lot of cottony fuzz stuck up there in my head where a brain should be and I just can't seem to get it out. It's like I know that I grew up on the streets without parents, which is what led me to a former life of crime, but I can't actually recall it happening. Is that weird?"

"Not if you've consumed as much alcohol as you have in your life. The stuff tends to kill brain cells." She dusted imaginary lint off the front of her shirt. "I mean, it's not like you're Darth Relevant and the Council is trying to cover it up by implanting false memories in your head in order to use you as a tool against the evil empire you created because you wanted to rule over every living thing in the galaxy."

Thane laughed. "See. That's the kind of story I would expect out of a Jedi. I knew you had it in you."

Brazilla furrowed her brow. "Thanks. I think."

"It just means you'll make a very good Master someday." He patted her on the shoulder as he left the infirmary. "I guess I'm off to save the galaxy," he said over his shoulder. "I have a promise to keep."

He didn't get very far, though, before being encountered by Jolie.

"I've a bone to pick with you, son," the old man said.

Thane looked at him. "Is that wise? I'd assume that you would need all the bone density you could get."

"Har har," Jolie replied. "Look. I might be old, but I'm sure as seven hells not useless. Let me come with you when you leave the boat this time. I need some fresh air, some sunshine…"

"Some scantily clad woman?" Thane said with a raised brow.

"I was on Cash for a long time," Jolie said, not even attempting to deny it. "A really long time and I hear this place is where you kids come to celebrate something called Spring Break."

Thane shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I've never been here before. I think. There's something strangely familiar about the sea air, though." He pressed his lips together. "It was probably a rum run."

"I thought you dealt in arms."

"You can't be picky when the economy tanks."

Jolie nodded. "True."

The men looked at each other for a moment before Thane said, "Yeah, sure, why not. I hear there's a pretty good retirement community here, too, so we might run into someone you know."

"Everyone I know is dead."

"Oh. Well, that sucks," Thane said. "Just be ready to go, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good." Thane scooped up Han, who was mewing his little kitten mew of attention while swatting at Thane's ankles. "And try not to have a heart attack out there. My Red Cross training isn't current."

"You're a right cherry popping daddy bastard, kiddo."

Thane shrugged. "Old news, pops."

Jolie just snorted at him and walked away.

--

It didn't take long for Thane to find a third person to go exploring with him considering how much Erika wanted off the ship and attention from the man who was giving all of his attention to another woman these days. Besides, she had argued, Brazilla was a prude, Canute didn't want to be otherwise distracted, and Garth felt guilty every time he looked out a window, so Thane was left with few options considering he found the droids fairly useless.

"Også," she said as they exited the spaceport, "I need to work on my tan."

How the neon green tube top she was wearing would manage to stay on while fighting the inevitable battles they would fight was anyone's guess. Thane suspected some form of adhesive.

"Are you sure you aren't going to burn there, little sister? You're awfully pale."

"I gooped up."

"Excuse me?"

"Sunblock. Just strong enough to avoid cancer, not strong enough to avoid some colouration." The click of her stiletto boots echoed down the gangway and Thane was about to say something concerning how unstealthy her choice of shoes was when the sound of battle reached their ears.

"God damn it," Thane said. "I was hoping to at least get into the city before running into trouble." He drew his lightsaber. So did Jolie and Erika. "At least there's an audience," he went on to say, pointing at insufficiently clothed men and women, "so I guess this isn't a total loss."

"Nej, det er ikke," Erika said, waggling her fingers at the boys. "Skal vi?"

"Yes, we shall."

And they did. It was rather magnificent.

--

A/N dos: Okay. Lame ending. I know. But it's a chapter, yeah? I really need to get back into watching/reading humor…

Credit: The line "cherry popping daddy bastard" is what I thought the line "dirty puppy daddy bastard" was for the longest time until I bothered to go look it up one day. It's from the Scissor Sisters' song Filthy/Gorgeous. I like my misheard mistake better. The drinking song is from a Jason Webley song.

Translations:

_Også _- Also

_Nej, det er ikke_ – No, it's not.

_Skal vi?_ – Shall we?


	18. Chapter 18: Consequences

A/N: The title is my excuse. So is that other story I've recently started posting...

--

Chapter 18: The Consequences of Spreading One's Focus Too Thin

The first time Thane opened his eyes, it was to see Erika doing a rather fantastic job of killing bad guys despite the four-inch height of her stiletto heel. In fact, the shoes were proving themselves to be damn good weapons of their own.

The second time he opened his eyes, it was to see that Jolie wasn't quite the crooked old man he initially seemed to be, at least not physically. He was, it would appear, quite nimble. No wonder he had survived Cash in one piece.

Closing his eyes, Thane tried to remember the events that had led up to his current state of unconsciousness. There had been some kind of a ruckus, that much was clear to his addled mind, and he, being the hero, had decided to step in to give the soldiers a helping hand. They had cheered when they saw him with his lightsaber. Hell, he didn't-think, he would have cheered, too.

Then things got a little fuzzy. He remembered punching some guy in the face before pummeling someone else with his pommel. Nearby, there had been some ambiguously legal young adults dancing and drinking and cheering along the fight despite the fact that people were dying. It must be part of the Spring Break show, the kids had collectively thought before thinking about how to find themselves more alcohol. Thane might have been proud of them, had he been able to read their minds rather than duck under the blade of a sword that came too close.

He had scowled at that point and made a hood ornament of the Sith on a nearby speeder for offending him so. He was the hero and wasn't supposed to get killed. Didn't they know how things worked?

Maybe, he continued to not-think, it had been his arrogance that had gotten him knocked off his feet.

Nah.

But after that there really wasn't much to remember except for saying hello to the decking and getting cozy with it.

And thanks to his fabulous timing, the third time Thane opened his eyes it was to discover the fight was over. The only indication he had taken any part in it was the pile of bodies around him—and his memories. They were pretty significant suggestions, actually. Groaning, he stood up and wiped off the front of his trousers.

"What the hell happened to me?" Thane asked. Erika was polishing her nails. Jolie was smirking.

"You went down like a rock, boyo" the old man said. "What are they teaching in schools these days? How to fail?"

Thane shrugged. "I don't think I went to school, at least not until recently with this whole becoming a Jedi thing." He frowned and rubbed at a sore spot on the side of his head. "Though I do seem to remember being oppressed as a child, so it's entirely possible that I had to suffer through it. Probably private school. I think I remember people in robes. And funny hats. Maybe. I really hate brain-fog…"

Jolie and Erika exchanged glances. Neither of them knew about the whole Darth Relevant fiasco in Thane's past and the more time they spent with him, the saner the rest of the galaxy seemed in these rather insane times. This was a special man standing here in front of them. A very special man. It was something his mother had probably told him quite often while he was growing up.

He was also grinning like an idiot at the abundance of bikinis as if their reason for coming here had completely slipped his mind.

"We should probably go…um…"

"Find the Map?" Jolie suggested.

"Yeah," Thane was watching a group of women, the altercation completely out of his mind now that the cleaning droids had come and gone. Thane hadn't actually seen them, but had no other explanation for the speedy disappearance of the bodies, blood, carnage, and gore that was normally left in the wake of a sword fight. Maybe they were invisible. That would be worth checking out, if only to acquire one for the ship, Thane actually-thought now that he was conscious.

The big man went on with an intelligent, "That."

A busty barmaid who looked exactly like the one back on Taboo passed the group. She was handing out alcohol without checking IDs and Thane was too distracted to take one of the drinks, thinking that, maybe, just maybe, he had been killed during the last battle after all. If this was his reward than, hell, he didn't mind being dead.

But then Erika interrupted his death wish.

"Har du any idea where it might be?" She was gathering the items that had been left behind in the wake of their battle, shoving weapons, stims, armor and the like into the bottomless pouch of endlessness attached to her belt.

"Probably on the bottom of the ocean," Thane replied, smiling his winning smile at a group of giggling females of various species. "I have a feeling we'll have to spend some time in damn clumsy enviro-suits."

"We?" Erika said. "Nuh-uh. You, ven, vil be spending time in the suit. Det er ikke godt til mi hår."

"You're probably right," Thane said, not looking at her. "I guess it's my lot in life. Maybe we'll be able to run in the next gen… Not that that helps me out now, of course." He frowned. "Let's go. Maybe that guy can help us out. He looks like he's holding out for a hero."

He pointed at a soldier just as he began walking in that direction. The soldier didn't look too happy about being approached by Jedi.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Nothing more than your help," Thane said, trying out his smile on the man. It didn't work. The soldier was either absolutely straight as a rod, he decided, or doing a very good job at denial because Thane could usually work over even the most secure of men. "What are the Sith doing here?"

"Stuff," the man said. "Don't ask me. I'm just here to make sure the kids don't get out of hand." He pointed at his taser and then at another soldier who was dealing with some adolescent boy yelling: _"Don't tase me, bro!"_

Thane shook his head in disappointment.

"Stuff is not a very good answer," he went on to say. "Don't make me deal with you the same way I dealt with them."

He pointed at the spot where there used to be bodies. The soldier swallowed while Jolie and Erika exchanged another glance. Had Brazilla been there, she probably would have melted under the pressure of keeping the kind of secret she was is custody of before reshaping and verbally abusing him. He was suddenly glad she was acting like a prude and staying on the ship. He might be in lust with her, but he didn't need her around every second of every day. He was Thane Sunrider. He needed his space.

Except when he didn't.

"C'mon, soldier boy," Thane said, sounding incredibly white, "can't you just glean me a little information off the top? I don't need to know the secrets of the Republic, just the secret as to why there are Sith at Spring Break. And maybe the location of the Map of Star's Homes."

The soldier narrowed his eyes. "There's a couple of guys hanging around selling maps."

"Ah," Thane said, "We after the Map with a big M, not maps with little ones. I don't stalk local celebrities. I hunt the big game."

"Whatever," the soldier said. "You'll probably want to talk to someone in the Republic Embassy. Frank Morgan, most likely. I've never seen him but I hear he knows everything."

"The man behind the curtain?" Thane grinned. "Classic."

"No, I don't think he spends much time hanging around in curtains," the soldier said. "He's just really busy."

"I think you got attacked by a fun vampire, little man, and got the humor sucked right out of you."

"Vampires aren't fun," the soldier droned.

"Of course they are," Thane said, glancing over the soldier's shoulder. "The life of the party. You should see them go."

"But they're not alive. Not technically, at least." Never mind the fact that they didn't actually exist.

Thane just narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Okay, bye. You, sir, are no fun. No fun at all. Thanks for almost nothing."

"You're welcome, I suppose."

"No need for that." Thane gave him a dismissive wave and then, "…Can you tell me where the Embassy is?"

The soldier shrugged. "The East Pier. You can't miss it."

"And we are on…"

"The West Pier. Shouldn't take you too long to get there."

Thane gave the soldier a backwards peace sign before taking off, Erika and Jolie on his heel.

--

Actually, it did take them a long time what with the doors that took hours to open, the pounding master mixes of popular songs, the girls, the boys… Oh, and the fact that there were some fifty East Piers. Thane was keeping count each time they happened across the wrong one.

"Apparently," Thane said, walking into number fifty-one. "You can miss it."

Unlike the rest of the East piers, however, this one was relatively silent. Where there had previously been raucous music, there were the sounds of shuffleboard and stories from the good old days.

Thane never thought he'd be happy to walk into a geriatric ward. Normally he avoided them like a plague considering they were an unpleasant reminder that he was, in fact, very mortal and aging by the minute. It wasn't something he generally liked to think about. He also had the funny feeling that he had, in the past, tried to do something about it, but couldn't think for the life of him of how he might have accomplished that.

Very strange.

Thane shook his head and pointed at the old people. "Recognize anyone, Jolie?"

"You're a jerk."

Thane just shrugged. "But do you?"

"Yes, actually…" The old man walked off. Erika and Thane remained where they were.

"Old people scare me," Erika said after a moment, twisting curls with her fingers. "I mean, Jolie's cool fordi you can almost forget han er old, if you squint, men all these other folk?" She shivered. "They're meget scary."

"They're not so bad," Thane said. "I mean what can they do? Bore you to death? Gum you?" He thought about it for a moment before abandoning that subject. "You'd be able to outrun them, anyway."

"Men jeg hear they kan swarm hvor there is en masse a det." She looked at Thane, her eyes wide. "Look, jeg don't lige det, okay? Det er just as irrational as your fear of clowns, ja? Leave me alone."

"They also seem to be affecting your ability to speak. Your Vikic is getting worse."

"Ja," she said. "Det er the problem with knowing to sporg."

Thane lifted his brow. "We should probably go after him before you get any worse," he said, pointing at Jolie. "It might be best if we were around to listen to the conversation in case he starts to lose his mind."

"He's right, you know," Erika said, entwining her fingers in Thane's for moral support. "Du er a jerk."

"Then why do I have a Miss Congeniality trophy?"

Erika turned her eyes on him. "I somehow doubt that belongs to you. It probably came with the ship."

"Yeah," Thane said, looking away. "I think it did. It was a nice thought while it lasted, though. You're a real killjoy, sweetheart."

Erika shrugged and tugged at the front of her tube top. "These boots were made for walking."

"No," he said, looking at them. "I don't think they were."

She was about an inch taller than him because of the heel and Thane couldn't decide if he liked it or not. There was something alluring about tall women that stirred his blood round and round. Maybe he would have to find a pair for Brazilla…

After a moment spent thinking about how nice that would be, he said, "Are you some kind of a valkyrie?" He didn't know why.

"I was training to be one before my master was killed. We've had a shortage of them ever since General Sunbeam-Moonshadow got herself exiled from the Order. Why?"

"Just curious." Thane lifted his perfectly sculpted shoulders in a shrug, having decided that he wanted to be noticed for all his magnificence despite their company. Dragging the fingers of his free hand through luxuriously thick, dark brown hair that he liked to keep at a roughish length just above his shoulders, he grinned a perfect megawatt smile, his eyes practically glowing in the bright sunlight. Scratching at the stubble that was also kept at the perfect roguish length, Thane drew Erika closer and put his arm around her shoulders.

She held his waist but wasn't otherwise distracted by him. "It's a strange thing to be curious about."

"I'm also trying to keep your mind off the surrounding fauna," Thane admitted. "You're talking a whole hell of a lot clearer now, in case you haven't noticed."

She looked at the side of his face. "You take the weirdest mental side trips."

"I like to hear myself talk."

"Ja, I got that."

Thane grinned at her and stopped about a foot away from Jolie and the old woman he was talking to. She looked like she had been pretty in her better years, red hair replaced mostly by white. Both oldies glanced at the youngsters before going back to their conversation.

"So long story short," Jolie was saying, "Sunny's in jail for murdering some girl in a hotel? That sounds like bad news, Honey."

Thane groaned. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this was going. Maybe if he just killed them all he wouldn't have to be bothered with them. It certainly would be easier.

He stopped then, confused as to where that particular thought had come from. It didn't seem like one he would have. Except that it did; he frowned. It was almost as if a curtain had opened up in the back of his mind and that his binoculars were too weak to see what was going on but good enough to know that he was looking at himself. It was rather existential.

"It _is_ bad news, Jolie." She wrung her hands. "You wouldn't be able to do anything about it, would you? I mean, I know that you retired from the whole crime fighting thing years ago, but maybe for old time's sake? I'd go get my get up on if I could remember where I put it."

Jolie looked at his companions before telling the woman, "They don't know about that."

She said, "Oh," and left it at that. Turning to them, she put out her hand. "Honey Eclipse. Jolie mentioned he was running around with a couple of kids, but I didn't know he meant such…large kids. You must have eaten all your vegetables while growing up." She was quite miniscule compared to the two well-over-six-foot tall Jedi but was taking in an eyeful of Thane nonetheless.

Erika shrugged. "I ate a lot fisk…er, fish. My people thrive on the mercury."

"I don't think she was seriously asking." Thane said.

"Oh. Right."

He just smiled, though, as he shook Honey's hand and introduced himself—minus the title concerning virginity (Thane could be polite, after all)—before introducing Erika as, "Erika Leifsson, Valkyrie-in-Training and Barmaid to the Gods and Fallen Warriors."

"My," Honey said, "you two do need your size to fit those titles. I must say that I'm impressed with the kind of people the Jedi seem to be rolling out these days. Back in my day…"

But Thane tuned out and turned to watch the ocean instead. It was rolling gently just beyond the man-made beach that was hardly visible for the beach blanket bingos and large colorful sunshades, the incoming tide playing dirty with the children on its edge. It ran when they chased it and came after them the moment they turned their back, causing panic among the parents. Thane couldn't help but chuckle.

"…but who wants to hear me ramble?" were the magical words that brought Thane back to his company. He turned back to Honey, who was looking at Jolie. "You should probably go to the jail and see if you can't talk to Sunny, Jolie. He'll want to see you at least, even if you fail in getting him out."

"No pressure or anything," Thane muttered to Erika. Neither old person heard him.

"We're not really doing anything important," Jolie replied. Thane thought about interjecting that they did indeed have something important to do, but chose not when he decided that Brazilla had made her bed in choosing to stay on the ship. No need to wake her now. "Just point us in the right direction and we're off."

Honey smiled brightly and pointed back the way they had come. "Head back to the West Pier. You can't miss it…"

--

A/N02: I still don't feel terribly funny but felt obligated to write/post something. And, apparently, Erika's dialogue was all over the place. Sorry. Danglish is fun…

We? Nuh-uh. You, ven, vil be spending time in the suit. Det er ikke godt til mi hår." (_We? Nuh-uh. You, friend, will be spending time in the suit. They aren't good for my hair.)_

"Old people scare me… They're meget scary." (_Old people scare me. I mean, Jolie's cool because you can almost forget he's old if you squint, but all these other people? They're very scary.)_

"Men jeg hear… Leave me alone." (_But I hear they can swarm when there are a lot of them, Look, I don't like them, okay? It's just as irrational as your fear of clowns, yeah? Leave me alone.)_

"Ja. Det er the problem with knowing to sporg." (_Yeah, that's the problem with knowing two languages.)_

Credits:

"Holding out for a Hero" is by Frou Frou, "These Boots were made for Walking" is by Nancy Sinatra (et al), and Frank Morgan is the actor who played the Wizard of Oz. Oh, and Beach Blanket Bingo is an _awesome_ movie.

And… Thanks to all the people who keep reading this thing. Sorry it's been sort of sucky, lately, with big breaks between chapters. Writer's Block. I think of it as the monstrous obstacle once seen in an episode of The Muppet Babies: a big letter block. Okay. This note is done.


	19. Chapter 19: Appeasing the Masses

Chapter 19: Appeasing the Masses

Thane opened his eyes.

"What happened?" he asked.

It was Brazilla who answered. "Erika tells me you walked into a bar."

"Oh, ha-ha," Thane said, sitting up. His head hurt. And when he put his hand to his forehead, a large welt met his fingers with an angry _Hello._ "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered. "That's really lame."

He gave the sky a good stink eye and stood up, taking in an eyeful of Brazilla as he did, admiring her outfit of choice for the sunny planet. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced away, heavy hair falling over one shoulder. "I assume you'll be fine?"

"I'm always fine," he said with a grin. "What're you doing out here, honey? I thought for sure you'd stay on the ship for the duration of the stay."

She shrugged and looked the other way. "Don't ask me. Erika decided that she had had enough and requested that I replace her. Something about popular demand. I assume she was talking about you." She allowed her eyes a glance at him, drinking in his tall glass of coolness under the hot afternoon sun.

"I hadn't actually said anything about you," Thane admitted. "Sorry. I do remember saying something about how her uncanny ability to find her way around a map wasn't working quite as well as she always claims it to and she got all puffy and upset." He shrugged. "Glad to see you off the ship, though. You've been looking a little pale lately. Don't Amazons like hanging out in the sun? Is that why you chose not to come with us the first time 'round? Tricky, little girl. Very tricky. You'd make an excellent smuggler."

Brazilla just snorted and turned to look at Jolie, who seemed to be off in his own little world, most likely thinking about his days spent in the past. It took several throat clearings and a good poke to his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

"Eh, what do you want?" he asked, turning a look at her. "You're not the girl."

"No, I'm the other one."

"I can see that," Jolie said. "I ain't dull."

"That could be argued," Thane said, leaning into Brazilla's ear. She didn't push him away, though, allowing the proximity.

"I ain't deaf, either, kiddo, so watch it."

Thane lifted his brow and stood up to his full imposing height, the air growing suddenly darker. It was so slight, however, that only the Jedi picked up on it, Brazilla's mind instantly taking a turn down Memory Lane to the man Thane had once been. If there were anyone else living inside of her skull besides her, he might have found the frequency of her trips down that particular road quite repetitive and her obsession over Thane's possible re-demise quite boring, but considering it was only her, no one was complaining. At least no one on the inside.

"And I don't think I'm quite as carefree as I play at," Thane went on to say. Brazilla's heart leapt into her throat, jockeying with her esophagus for adequate space. It made swallowing difficult. "I used to be a smuggler, you know, and a damn good one, I take it. I don't know what I used to do to people considering my memories stop about two months back around the time I woke up on that ship, but I do remember that people would sometimes pay dearly for crossing me. You don't get hired by the Republic unless you're the best and you don't get to be the best by stepping kindly around other people's flower gardens. You barge right on through. That much I do remember."

This time Jolie joined in on Brazilla's worry. He, like Garth, knew that he had seen Thane somewhere before, but there was something blocking off that part of his brain, almost as if the knowledge had been erased from his memory, too. Sometimes when Thane was on the very opposite end of the ship he was able to think and could almost get there, but considering the size of Thane's ego, no one ever quite made it to discovering the truth.

Except, of course, for the ones who already knew and Brazilla was getting more worried by the nanosecond. She was here to stop him from going back down the path of being a very bad little boy and it wasn't going all that well as far as she could tell. He told dark jokes and more than once, now, his eyes had darkened from their normal robin blue to something more cobalt in nature. Once, they were almost black, but she had an explanation for that.

Brazilla blushed. It went unnoticed, however, considering Thane was currently the center of attention.

"I also remember a whole lot of lilting pop music, which is real strange."

"Not that strange, all things considered," Brazilla said. She instantly clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. They hadn't yet reached the point of being able to talk about his previous associations casually, mostly because he didn't know who he used to be.

Thane frowned at her. "What do you mean by that?"

"Ah…" She started to play with her hair. "Well… Being a smuggler you must have ended up in jail at some point."

"Probably." He shrugged. "So?"

"No reason, really. Relevant used to use pop music to torture his prisoners." She shrugged, too, though it wasn't nearly as nonchalant as his had been. In fact, she was quivering, but not for any good or pleasurable reason. That and Jolie's stare could have burned a hole in the side of her face. She brushed at her right temple.

Thane stared at her, too, before he smiled. And when he did, the sun brightened; no one other than the Jedi noticed the difference in the weather, though, just as before. The vacationers were too absorbed in their own lives to notice that the man who had almost killed them all was standing in their midst. Societal denial was pretty sweet in that regard.

"So…" Brazilla said. "What were you two up to before Erika decided to head back to the ship?"

"Trying to break a potential murderer out of jail," Thane said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and admired a group of young women as they walked past. Brazilla narrowed her eyes at him, but the scathing went unnoticed.

"That's not very Jedi-like behavior, you know," she said.

He shrugged again. "Jolie's the one in charge of this outfit, so pick your bone with him if you've got a problem. I'm just along to admire the view and to push us in the general direction of the Map. Though, now that you're here, I can give up that secondary task to you."

"I've nothing on Can'nonbe'ach to admire."

"Which is why I'm giving you the less important task of getting us to the Map," Thane said, smiling his killer smile. "I'm likely to get too distracted to get us there. All I know is that I need to go see some guy who likes to hang out in curtains somewhere on the East Pier. I don't know which East Pier, but he's bound to be on one of them."

"He's probably in the Embassy since that's where we were told to go," Jolie said.

"That'd be the place. Good. I don't really want to talk to some creep." But then Thane seemed to think about it. He even frowned a little bit. "Though, he is probably a politician of some variety seeing as he's in the Embassy… Right. Anyway. Which way were we going before running into that tangent?"

"You mean the bar?" Brazilla asked.

"Ha-ha. Let's never talk about that again." Thane narrowed his eyes at her and though something in Brazilla's heart thumped with excitement as it wrapped its arm-like ventricles around her esophagus… Well, there's no need to get back into her concerns about Thane becoming Relevant again.

"Actually," Jolie was saying while Brazilla was worrying and trying to swallow, "we were just about to walk into a bar to ask for directions."

"I thought we weren't—"

Jolie cut him off by pointing at the Lazy Lungfish Lounge. "It _is_ the one you walked into if you want to get damn technical about it, but I figured we'd use the existing door this time as opposed to trying to make one of our own. It might work a bit better."

In perfect fairness to Thane, he had been distracted in the seconds before walking into the bar, or at least into its side. What with Erika's sudden bad mood, the hordes of scantily clad women, and the fact that he was looking behind him as he continued to walk forward, it was a mistake anyone could have made, even a Jedi whose level of awareness was supposed to be something super-(not)human—sort of like walking into a telephone pole on the outskirts of a crowded sidewalk while talking to a friend; an easy mistake.

"But I don't need directions," Thane argued. "I always know where I'm going."

"Which is why we've visited seventy piers today?"

"Exactly." Thane smiled and winked at him. "But if you want to go in and figure out where the hell you're going, I'm not gonna stop you. 'Zill and I will just wait for you here."

"Figures," Jolie said. "I shouldn't expect you kids to do anything responsible."

"I'm saving the galaxy here, gramps. That's pretty damn responsible in my book."

Jolie looked him up and down. "I never had any children."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not a grandfather."

Thane put up a hand. "Okay. Whatever. Look, we'll be right here waiting for you. Unless, of course, I take her to buy something pretty." He pointed at Brazilla. "I've got credits burning a hole in my pocket and they're screaming to be spent on something frivolous."

He slung his arm around the woman's shoulders. She promptly pushed it off.

"I don't enjoy frivolity," she replied.

"I wouldn't have guessed." Thane glanced at her. Jolie _bah'd_ and went inside.

--

_Meanwhile, on the far side of the galaxy and…_

Just past the Rhineland Sector in a particularly cold part of space, a rather ostentatious ship established orbit around a land of ice and snow otherwise known as the planet Asgard. Other smaller ships came up around it and scattered themselves like jacks, ready to sacrifice their own lives for the sake of Darth Talck, Ultra-bad Villain More-Extraordinaire and Current Dark Lord of the Sith. In the distance, a battle station that was too big to be a battle station slowly absorbed the energy of the smaller of two suns: _Stars Forge_—the galaxy's largest manufacturer of unauthorized biographies and iron weaponry.

Talck was pacing the bridge of his flagship, the _Baldr Dash_, muttering to himself as well as a man in an iron mask can. While it only covered half of his face, it was the half that mattered when it came to muttering to oneself in frustration. The rest was a kind of powdery white accented with yellow-green eyes and short-cropped black hair growing over strange tattoos—the kind of face that used to be handsome before the bottom half of it was lopped off. He rubbed at that hair now, surprised at its length. Normally he kept it close to nonexistent, but the disappearance of Brazilla and reappearance of his formerly-dead-but-not-quite Master had been occupying his thoughts of late. He hadn't known of Thane's continued life until the day before yesterday, but it was troubling enough to keep his mind off his grooming.

He paused at the viewport and stood up straight like a man finally free of years spent slouching in order to appear shorter than he actually was. Relevant hadn't liked the taller height of his apprentice; it had made him feel inadequate, somehow, and the thought still made Talck scowl… Would have made him scowl, had he more than one lip to scowl with. Once again the doing of his former master, Relevant had made sure Talck wouldn't be able to do much in the way of lower-facial expressions for the rest of his life.

It also made eating a terribly difficult task. Talck still wasn't used to the perceived taste of meal-in-a-bag.

Running the back of his fingernails over his iron forged jaw, Talck paused to observe both his domain and his domain-to-be. Just like eating, it was a rather difficult thing to do considering he was way beyond the border of known space. Still, he decided, most of the stars out there probably belonged to him. At least the ones that were in this galaxy. And somewhere, somewhere, Thane and Brazilla were doing too good a job of both avoiding his detection and attracting attention away from him.

He would have to fix that.

He turned his practically glowing, nearly ruined eyes to the pit of engineers beneath him and barked out a command as well as he could through his vocalizer.

"Get us out of here," he said to no one in particular. Gaines, Garth's former mentor, was the one who answered. He had been standing next to Talck for the entirety of his pacing but was such a thoroughly insignificant man that he hardly deserved attention or mention for some relative months.

"But we've only just arrived," he said. "Don't you think it prudent that we establish our hold over the Makers now rather than leave them to their own devises? Outside influences might swoop in and turn them against us."

The Current Dark Lord of the Sith narrowed his eyes at Gaines as if surprised by his presence.

"Ha," Talck laughed as a droid might. "Ha-ha-ha. They wouldn't dare. They know exactly what Relevant would have done to them if they had ever chosen crossed his word and both leaders still think that I managed to kill him. They're quaking in their pointy little horned hats." He stabbed his finger at the planet hanging beneath them and then at the one outside the viewport. "They can wait. Brazilla and Relevant cannot."

Gaines swallowed, a fact that he had to hide from Talck. Thankfully, the high collar of his uniform hid the tell-tale wobble of his Adam's apple. "Where would you have us go?"

Talck smiled cruelly with his eyes and top lip. "To Spring Break, of course. If I know the man Relevant used to be and currently is, that's where he'll be. The fact that there's a Map there is hardly relevant."

Gaines was about to ask how the Map could possibly be Talck's former Master, hardly or not, when he thought about it for a moment and decided that he rather liked his head and his privates just where they were, thank you very much, so he remained silent. And he nodded.

"Can'nonbe'ach it is, my Lord," Gaines said, adding in a deep bow just in case Talck was displeased in any way. Talck just glanced at him and walked back to the viewport, stroking his immobile jaw with one hand and wiping his shoulder clean of some powder with the other.

Gaines was immediately forgotten.

--

"So," Thane was saying as he leaned over Brazilla in a dark corner outside the Lazy Lungfish, "you've been hanging around in the shallow pools of lust that drown our tallest women again, have you? I might be able to help you back out of them, lovely."

Brazilla blushed and glanced away, an errant giggle escaping her lips. She put her hand on her cheek, ashamed of herself. Giggling was not a part of the Jedi repertoire.

"I thought so," he said, tilting her face back to his and leaning close enough to kiss her nose. "You know, the only reason I was looking at anyone else was to work you into a jealous fit of rage."

"But I've been trained to be emotionless," she whispered back. "I can't feel jealousy or rage."

He touched her in the middle of the chest. "I know you have it in your heart, if only for me."

"I don't think I will satisfy you with that kind of attention."

Thane smiled against her top lip. "There's lots of other things you can do, you know."

Brazilla scowled but didn't break their contact, slight though it was. "You are a terrible man."

"I am a wonderful man."

She didn't answer, her eyes closing halfway. "Would you do anything I asked?"

"I would conquer the galaxy for you."

Her heart fluttered, but not because of whom he had once been. Out of habit, she replied with, "Talk like that leads to the dark side, Thane."

"Everyone's got a dark side, honey." He ran his fingers through her hair and held onto its weight. "Even Jedi."

"I don't know how much I like that," she said against his lips.

"I don't know how much I like that, either," Jolie also said. Brazilla leapt backwards. Thane smirked and remained where he was. "I can't leave you two alone for one second, can I?"

"You could leave us alone for a whole hour, if you like," Thane replied, straightening from his reclined posture against the wall. "I wouldn't mind and I know that she would stop minding eventually."

Brazilla did her best to frown. Jolie's version was more successful.

"I don't want to warn you about the path that can lead you down because that would make me sound like a Jedi," Jolie went on to say. "And I ain't much of a Jedi anymore."

Thane shrugged. Again. He seemed particularly fond of the gesture today. "I wasn't a Jedi up until recently and I'm not so sure how much I like it. The power is nice, the restrictions not so much. Maybe Relevant and Talck had it right."

"I wouldn't go around spoutin' your mouth like that." Jolie turned his attention to Brazilla as he said it, expecting her to give a good tongue-lashing. Instead, she just narrowed her eyes as if there wasn't much of a point anymore. And though Jolie hated having premonitions, he felt as if something ominous was coming. These two kids could serve a world of hurt to the galaxy and then some if they chose to follow a certain path. He was an old man who had seen a lot in his life and he knew the tell-tale signs of disillusionment. This could be bad.

And then Thane broke the suddenly somber mood.

"I guess we should get on going," he said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. "Find out anything useful?"

"Yeah. The jail's just around the corner. Let's go talk to Sunny."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan," Thane said. "Lead the way."

Jolie gave the two younger Jedi one last look before turning his back on them and heading off to find his friend. This was bound to be interesting.

--

_A/N – Thanks everyone for the lovely reviews and such. They really keep me writing. And sorry if seriousness has leaked in; it was bound to happen eventually, I figure. But hey, a chapter so quickly after the last! That's either inspiration or me avoiding working on the sequels to _Savior_ or a little of both…_

_And, look! Our pasty baddie finally gets to make an appearance as he finally decided to come out and play. His ship, in case you're curious, is named for Baldr, a Norse God associated with light and beauty that probably isn't pronounced "balder" as much as it is pronounced "bal(strange breathy sound in back of throat similar to the sound a TH and an R would make together; or sound of coughing up phlegm)". Ain't the Scandinavian languages a blast?_

_Credit:_

_The lyric "shallow pools of lust that drown our tallest women" is from Adam Green's song_ Hairy Women_ and the bit about Jolie not being a grandfather was inspired by Shepherd Book in_ Firefly_. Also, for those who didn't pick it up, there were slight_ Watchmen _references in the previous chapter. The comic is a little piece of pure awesomeness, if you haven't read it._


End file.
